


Entropy

by Mintacia



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette, Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Hawk Moth Reveal, Humor, Identity Reveal, Marichat, Miraculous Ladybug Origins, Plot, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Length: 1-1.5 Hours, Protective Parents, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-06-09 13:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 55,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15268251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mintacia/pseuds/Mintacia
Summary: The headlines read, "MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG IS LADYBUG." A hundred reporters swarm outside of the bakery, cameras and mics at the ready.Marinette had been hoping for a peaceful Sunday, but what she got instead was her world falling to chaos. On top of all that, Marinette also has to deal with Chat Noir, who seems even more dedicated in his mission to invade both her personal space and her heart.Audio reading (podfic) available for chapter one.





	1. Turbulent Seas

_[Click here](https://soundcloud.com/mintacia-1137137/entropy-chapter-oneturbulent-seas) for the author created audio reading of chapter one, hosted on Sound Cloud._

**\- x - x - x -**  

 

When Marinette woke up on Sunday morning, there were one hundred and twenty eight notifications on her phone.

Blinking sleep out of her eyes, she stared at her phone in disbelief. Sure, once in awhile, Alya would bombard her phone with messages over something trivial. Something exciting would happen during the night and Marinette would wake up to twenty or thirty fanatical messages from her friend. However, this - one hundred and twenty eight messages - was insane.

Pulling down on the message notifications revealed that the messages weren't just from Alya.

Thirty five were from Alya. Twelve from Nino. Nineteen from Chloé. The other sixty two messages were rather equally distributed from her other classmates, some of her cousins, and a few unknown numbers. Her lock screen did not show her previews of these texts; regardless, fear began to trickle into her heart.

She unlocked her phone and clicked on Alya's messages first.

Half of the messages were sent in full caps. Some messages were as short as ' _OMG_ ' but most of them were longer. Marinette's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as she stared at one of the longer, more recent messages.  

> **Alya:** _PLEASE CALL ME MARINETTE! I NEED TO KNOW IF WHAT THEY'RE SAYING ON THE NEWS IS TRUE! HAVE I BEEN BEST FRIENDS WITH FREAKING LADYBUG ALL THIS TIME!?_

_Oh no, oh no no no no_ , Marinette thought, panic blossoming in her chest.

Marinette opened up her phone's internet browser and typed in 'ladybug.' The first five articles all bore the same general message in their title - _LADYBUG'S IDENTITY REVEALED_. One of the titles even had her full name (both parts of her last name included) in it. She clicked on that one and skimmed through it.

About half way down the article, there was a video titled 'proof.' Nervously, Marinette clicked on the video and watched as she - in her black-spotted garb - bounced across her neighbors roofs and landed on her own balcony. The camera catching this all zoomed in right as the recorded version of herself transformed back into Marinette.

The camera managed to zoom in to the point that you could clearly see her face and the  _Françoise Dupont High School_  logo on her shirt.

Marinette felt like puking.

"Tikki!" she hissed quietly, as if her room was already bugged by reporters. Which, of course, it wasn't. Because that would be crazy… right? Suddenly, Marinette didn't even feel safe her in her own room.

"Good morning!" the kwami replied nonchalantly, yawning deeply as she rose up into the air beside Marinette. The kwami froze when she took in Marinette's panicked expression. "Is something wrong?"

"Is something wrong?  _Is something wrong?_ " Marinette squawked dramatically, chucking her phone to the end of her bed, "Everything's wrong Tikki!"

Tikki glanced down at the phone and then back to Marinette. "Did you not get into that college you were hoping for?" The kwami guessed cautiously.

“I wish that’s all it was. Tikki, I don’t even think I can go to college now,” Marinette whimpered as she pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face into them, “I don’t think I can go anywhere anymore.”

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be fine." Tikki tried to reassure her, flying closer and giving the top for her head a small pat.

"My identify is out," Marinette said, her voice cracking, "the world knows I'm Ladybug."

"Oh," was Tikki's simple, somber response. The little kwami gulped. "That is a pickle."

Marinette could only nod in agreement.

-  **x**  -

Her parents weren't big on keeping up with the news. But, that didn't mean that they were completely cut off from the rest of the world. In fact, unfortunately, their business was hinged on selling pastries to the world. On most mornings, the bakery was humming with life from all the people.

Today, it was empty, save for her parents. Today, her parents had closed down the shop, most likely to prevent it from being overrun from reporters and fans. Still, people bearing cameras and makeshift posters pressed themselves against the glass, trying to sneak a peak at the superhero girl.

Marinette saw all this from the top of the stairs. She had tiptoed her way down, just far enough to see but not be seen.

Her mother was on the phone with her aunt. "I don't know," Marinette overheard her mother say, "it could all be a mistake. She's only 17, _meimei_. I can't believe that my little girl is some... _superhero_." Her mother said the world _superhero_ like it was a curse, rather than a blessing.

Marinette shuddered.

Her father was sitting at a table, reading a newspaper. On the side of the paper closest to Marinette, the headline read _IS LADYBUG A SCHOOLGIRL?_

Trying not to draw attention to herself, Marinette quietly tiptoed down the rest of the stairs. Staying out of view from the front windows, she silently grabbed a few pastries from the bakery stock. Although she knew she'd have to talk with her parents eventually, she didn't want to do it now.

She was about two steps up the stairs when her father's voice gently commanded, "Marinette, come over and take a seat. Your mother and I need to speak with you." _Damn it_ , Marinette thought, as she unwillingly turned around.

-  **x**  -

It didn't go well.

It was all Marinette's stupid fault. She shouldn't have admitted it. She could have played dumb. Put off the inevitable as long as possible. But, she didn't, and once it was out, there was no going back.

Essentially, she was grounded from superheroing. Well, that's not how her parents put it, but that's what Marinette interpreted. Her parents took turns, pointing out the dangers and bringing up past close calls. Her mother kept saying  _if I'd know that was you_ , over and over again. They also were pretty furious that she'd started all this when she was just 14.

On top of that, they were even furthered peeved because she refused to explain how she came to have these abilities. Marinette only admitted to the basics: that she was Ladybug, that she'd been Ladybug for years now, and that she didn't know who Chat Noir was (not that she'd tell her parents his identity either way).

Marinette stomped her way up the stairs after the big conversation.

"Well, that could have gone worse," Tikki offered optimistically soon after they'd gotten upstairs. She had, of course, been listening, tucked in Marinette's pocket.

"How!?" Marinette snapped at her kwami and then regretted it when she saw the look on Tikki's face. "I… oh Tikki, I'm sorry, I'm just so stressed. This is not how I wanted any of this."

But, it was how things were. Life didn't always ask your opinion before changing. Marinette threw herself onto her bed, growling in frustration.

Over the next few hours, Marinette tried to keep herself busy. She finished every last bit of her homework, watched TV, and even eventually texted Alya back (in which she promised Alya that she'd explain everything soon, in person). Marinette did everything but go downstairs and face her parents. Luckily, they left her alone the rest of the day, except for around dinner time when Marinette's mother brought her a bowl of soup.

Marinette felt like a prisoner during meal time as she accepted the soup from her mother, muttering a few words in thanks. Her mother awkwardly reminded her, "I love you Marinette," before heading back down the stairs.

Carefully placing the bowl on her desk, Marinette flopped down into her chair and groaned.

"The soup looks good," Tikki commented after flying over and sniffing it.

Before Marinette could reply, another voice spoke.

"So it's true."

Marinette jumped out of her chair in surprise.

It was Chat Noir.

Chat Noir, clad in his typical black leather, was standing in her room by the open balcony doors that she definitely didn't leave open. He was watching her with a curious, beguiled gaze.

Marinette suddenly felt very naked (even though, for the record, she wasn't). Yes, Chat had met her before as a civilian, several times in fact, but he had never known that it was  _her._ Now, he knew. Just like her parents, there was a knowing gleem to his gaze.

It was unnerving. Flushing, Marinette half-heartedly greeted, "Hello cat."

She was happy to see him, though. In all honesty, he was probably the only person in all of Paris who could fathom what she was going through. She needed his support more than ever before.

"Marinette." Chat's voice was an octave or two lower than normal as he stepped further into her room.

Shrugging, Marinette replied, "Yep, that's me. Marinette, the Ladybug. You got me." That last little bit was an attempt at a joke, but he didn't laugh. Chat was staring at her like he was trying to memorize every last inch of her.

She had to remind herself that had to be a shock for him. They'd been working together for three years, saving each other and saving Paris, and yet they'd never knowingly laid eyes on each other's secret identities… until now. She tried to be patient, not wanting to rush him. Although, she kind of felt like an animal being hunted, what with the way he was inching closer and closer to her.

He stopped a meter away from her and gulped audibly. Tilting her head, Marinette asked playfully, "You alright there, cat?" With the way he was acting, you'd think he was the one with his identity out.

"I'm good," he breathed, his voice soft, "how… um, are you?"

Seriously, what was wrong with him? Marinette shifted nervously under his intense gaze. His green eyes were reminding her of something, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Whatever it was, it was making her feel… excited? Warm? It was hard to describe.

"I've been better," she replied dryly.

"Oh, yes, right, er..." It was like Chat Noir had snapped out of whatever dreamlike state he'd been in. He blinked several times and then spoke with nervous energy, "Yes, your identity. Things might be dangerous, now that Hawk Moth knows who you are. We need to consider your safety, Marinette. I can have cameras and a security system set-up -"

"No, I'm good," Marinette cut him off, smiling at Chat Noir's antics, "trust me, I've had enough cameras for now."

"Are you sure?" replied Chat Noir, his brow furrowing with disappointment.

"Yes. Right now, my biggest problem is dealing with my life." Her messy, messy life. Her friends who felt betrayed. Her parents who were afraid. The reporters, who were trying to turn her life into a spectacle.

Chat looked at her for a long moment, before suddenly offering, "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Marinette almost said no. Almost. The thing was, who else could she talk about it with? She really did need a chance to unload onto someone. Chat Noir was sort of perfect. "Okay, I guess. If you don't mind."

That's how they ended up talking for nearly an hour. Chat Noir sat on her bed, criss cross applesauce, and listened as she told him about Alya, about the news reporters, and about what she feared from school. However, she didn't talk much about her parents, as she didn't want to worry him about the whole  _being-grounded-from-superheroing_.

Chat Noir was a good listener. He commented occasionally and gave a suggestion here and there, but, for the most part, he just let her talk. It was exactly what she needed.

Then, while she was in the middle of telling him about the suck-up text messages she'd received from Chloé Bourgeois, his suit beeped. He was out of time already. "I guess I didn't feed my kwami enough," he joked, toying with the gold bell on his neck.

"Oh, well, yes, I guess you better leave," Marinette said, blushing when she realized how long she'd been talking for.

Only, Chat Noir didn't get up. He rubbed the back of his head nervously and said, "Actually, you know, I could also… not leave."

"You're about to detransform, though," Marinette pointed out, blinking in confusion.

"Right," Chat Noir replied, smiling in an almost pleadingly way.

"Oh," Marinette breathed. She understood what he was suggesting. He was offering to detransform, to show her who he was. "I, oh, Chat." She rubbed her arms and sighed morosely.

He climbed off her bed and strode over to her, a look of determination on his face. She frowned at him as he approached. That frown dropped, though, when he got on his knees in front of her. His black gloved hands grabbed hers and he captured her eyes with his own.

Her mind went blank as she lost herself in those familiar green eyes.

She was leaning down towards him. They got closer and closer, until she could count the small scratches in his mask. There was something about him that shook her, sucking reason out of her mind. She'd experienced this before, but only rarely. Every time, including now, it felt almost supernatural. Only, every other time before, the trance had been broken by whatever akuma they'd been fighting.

There was no akuma now. There was only a day so hectic that it was enough to make her crazy. The new chaos in her life was surely inspiring dangerous spontaneity. Why, for a moment, she seriously considered pressing her lips to his.

"Ah!" Marinette yelped, snapping herself out of it. She sat up quickly and, instinctively, kicked Chat away. He tumbled backwards, meowing in indignation.

"Ow," he complained, now sprawled on her bed room's floor.

"I'm sorry," Marinette bumbled, rubbing her hot cheeks, "I think I lost my mind there for a moment. W-we… we don't even know each other, Chat. Not, you know, _really_." She added the last bit to try and sooth the harsh reality of her words. Chat Noir and Ladybug's interactions had always been superficial. They could talk about saving people, could talk about kwamis, and a few other casual topics. But, they couldn't talk about their families, their friends, their love lives… all that had always been off the table.

"Mari," said Chat, sitting up, "I think we know each other pretty well."

Of course _he_ thought that. Chat Noir had had a crush on her, on and off, for the past three years. She'd always thought his crush was crazy. How could you crush on someone with a mask on, whom you couldn't truly get to know?

"No, we really don't, Chat," Marinette replied, trying to be as nice as she could about it, "we've never talked about family or friends -"

"Technically, you just did," pointed out Chat with a grin.

"- okay, but until now, we never did. We also have never really hung out." Crossing her arms, Marinette added the nail in the coffin, "Besides, you may know me, but I don't know you."

A chuckle escaped Chat. "Then let me tell you about me. Marinette, my name is -"

"STOP!" Marinette shouted as she jumped out of her chair, landing haphazardly on Chat's legs. She slapped her hand over his mouth. Then, she remembered that her parents were downstairs and winced. Hopefully, they didn't hear that exclamation. Softer, she hissed at Chat, "It's bad enough my identity is out! We don't need your identity out too."

Chat hissed too, but in pain, rather than in reply. Marinette slipped off him and he rubbed his legs, muttering, "Geez Louise." Then, he turned his attention from his legs back to her. "Princess," he spoke dryly, "I'm pretty sure you won't go blasting my identity out there for the reporters."

"Yes, well, still," Marinette replied, shaking her head vigorously, "we shouldn't be trying to make things more complicated." Everything was already too complicated.

In all honesty, it was more than that. The idea of knowing who Chat Noir really was frightening to Marinette. Because,  _knowing_ would intertwin them together more than ever before. It would make their relationship more real, more emotional. Just thinking about it made her anxiety spike.

No, it was better to keep things simple.

"For the record, I think you're crazy," Chat replied softly, painfully, "but okay. If that's what you want." He hesitated at the end of his sentence, as if he was hoping that Marinette might interrupt him and change her mind.

"Good. Thank you, Chat." She breathed deeply. Marinette's world might have been falling apart, but she would be damned if she didn't fight to keep up whatever barriers she could.

He was looking at her again in the same way he had earlier, when he'd first arrived. His brow was furrowed and he was studying her face. When his suit's alarm rang again, he barely reacted. Half-smiling, Marinette reached forward and flicked his bell, trying to nicely point out to him that he couldn't stay here with her forever.

Before she could draw back her hand, his hand caught it. Then, his whole body moved, his eyes slid closed, and he tapped his lips into hers, albeit briefly. It all happened quickly.

As quick as it began, it was over.

He pulled back, cheeks red. "Whoops," he giggled drunkenly.

"Chat," she gasped, her anger blossoming as she yanked back her hand, "what the hell!"

Chat shrugged a little, his dopey smile somewhat apologetic, before he started to move. He twisted himself around and then darted across her room lithely. Marinette barely had the time to splutter a few more expletives at him as he yanked open the balcony door and hopped onto the railing. "Chat!" She howled, furious and embarrassed. It felt like her cheeks were on fire. "You little rat!"

"Cat, not rat!" Was the last thing he yelled back at her before he completely vanished amongst the buildings. To Marinette's annoyance, he sounded pleased with himself.

-  **x** -

School sucked.

Everyone knew. Of course everyone knew.

The day had started poorly. Getting to school was a challenge in itself, what with the milion reporters gathered outside of her family's bakery. Marinette had been tempted to change to Ladybug and leave through the attic, but she knew that would only make things worse. The last thing she wanted was to feed the reporters more  _proof_.

So she shoved through the reporters, mumbling  _excuse me_  and  _pardon me_. Her parents had stood at the bakery doors and tried to help by shouting at the reporters too, but it was rather ineffective.

The school doors seemed like a gift from god as she slipped through them. That is, until all the eyes in the hallway of the school turned to her. Kids she knew, kids she didn't, all stared at her. Marinette was used to being stared at while Ladybug. She was  _not_ , however, used to it while being Marinette.

The classroom wasn't much better.

Alya was on an emotional rollercoaster, going back and forth between being annoyed that she'd been in the dark about it to being thrilled that she knew Ladybug. Any time their teacher took so much as a three second pause in his lecture, she began whispering frantically to Marinette. Alya threw every and any question at Marinette, most of which Marinette refused to answer.

Oh, and then there was Adrien.

Like everyone else in the room, he was acting weird to Marinette. Only, his weird was a different sort of weird. Marinette couldn't quite put her finger on it. Just like everyone else, he kept sneaking glances at her. But, there was something different about how he looked at her… or maybe she was just imagining it. Considering how she'd been infatuated with him for a good three years, it wasn't unreasonable that she was reading too much into it.

-  **x**  -

At lunch, she hid in a broom closet. She needed a break from Alya, from the stares, from everything. It ended up being the most peaceful part of her day.

-  **x**  -

She had almost made it through a whole school day when an akuma attacked.

She just barely heard the distance explosions, faint bangs that blended into the sounds from the history documentary they were watching in class.  _That's the documentary,_ Marinette had hoped.

Nope. Soon, the principle came on over the loudspeaker and announced that school was going to have to end a few minutes early due to the akuma attack. After that initial announcement, the principle paused, cleared his throat audibly, then added, "Good luck to any who choose to fight it."

 _Kill me now_ , the seventeen year old thought as her cheeks burned in embarrassment.

She shoved her books quickly into her bag. Meanwhile, no one else in the class seemed to be in a hurry to go anywhere. They all sat there, watching her every movement like vultures waiting for death.

The door banged open loudly, pulling Marinette out of her own negative contemplations. She turned and saw Adrien disappearing around the corner, into the hallways.  _He's in a rush,_  she thought,  _or he just hates me now and wants to get away from me_. That was a lovely thought.

Feeling miserable, Marinette found her way to the broom closet again. Only, now she was stuck with a conundrum. Her parents had very explicitly banned her using her miraculous abilities. Marinette had tried to explain to them that she had to help, that she was the only one who could purify the akumas. That hadn't mattered to her parents, who pointed out to her that that was an unreasonable duty for a young girl to have.

 _Honey, there's got to be somebody else who can do that. You're just too young to be risking your life like this._  Her mother had told her.

Already, Marinette was faced with breaking her parents inane rules. She knew she would have to eventually, but she had been hoping for a few days to pass first. A little time for her parents to grow used to the idea that she was Ladybug. A little time for them to come to the realization that Paris needed her, needed Ladybug.

Oh well.

"Spots on." Marinette commanded.

-  **x**  -

Chat Noir kept making terrible bakery puns.

Reporters took ten kazillion photographs. Their flashes nearly blinded her.

Alya sent her eleven text messages, asking for a full play-by-play of what happened.

Then, as if all that wasn't bad enough, when she got back home, her parents were furious. Marinette hadn't been yelled at like that since she was a kid. She made the mistake of trying to play the  _I'm basically an adult_  card but that had only made it worse. Threats were levied.

_We'll take away your phone, your computer, your TV._

_We'll pull you from your school._

_We'll move to the countryside._

The worst thing was that Marinette wanted to be pissed at her parents. She really, really did. But, she couldn't be. There was a part of her that understood why her parents were so freaked out about this. Just in the last three years, she'd nearly died five different times. Two of them had ended up televised with headlines like  _IS THIS THE END OF LADYBUG?_

Her parents were worried that being a superhero would kill her…. and yeah, it might.

That didn't mean that she could stop. Marinette was Ladybug. Ladybug was Marinette. She had been selected for this role by something greater than herself. If only her parents could see that!

They couldn't. They probably never would.

Marinette curled herself into a small ball on her bed and pulled her comforter over her head. Her eyes were like leaky faucets, intent on dehydrating her. Tikki had long since given up trying to comfort her and was now giving her some space. There was just so much for Marinette to work out, emotionally.

She cried silently for a good half an hour. Then, out of the blue, her comforter was ripped away unceremoniously and she found herself half a meter away from a brightly smiling Chat Noir.

She started to scream. He reacted quickly, slipping his hand onto her mouth to quiet her. "Shhh!" He hissed at her through his teeth.

Then his eyes inspected her tear stained face and her now-furious eyes.

"Mari, what's wrong?" He spoke in a whisper, clearly horrified.

As soon as he'd pulled his glove away from her face, she couldn't help herself, she launched herself into a long rant about just  _what_ was  _wrong_.

Her rant started out nasty, beginning with he kept breaking into her room and  _did he really think she appreciated that?_  She also might have called him an ass... several times.

The farther she got into her rant, though, the more the anger was replaced with anxiety and sadness. She really didn't mean to, but she ended up spilling all her emotions to Chat Noir (again) as he laid next to her on her bed. To his credit, he barely made any noise during this solid three or four minute rant. He just listened, his expression sympathetic.

Somehow, she reached the end of her rant. Her chaotic world, wide open for Chat to see. "So, there. That's what's wrong." Marinette concluded, sniffling.

"I'm sorry," Chat whispered, his own voice now hoarse with emotion, "I wish I could fix it all for you."

"You can't," Marinette replied bleakly.

Chat didn't reply. Even when Marinette, feeling the need for comfort, scooted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder, he refrained from comments (inappropriate and otherwise).

-  **x**  -

He stayed with her, tucked close to her with only the comforter between them, until his suit beeped. Marinette wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed when he left.

She sat up to watch as he jumped up and balanced on her balcony's railing. From down below, several flashes lit up the night. Paparazzi. Chat looked down at the paparazzi, his leather flashing gray with every photo.

Suddenly, he twisted around on one foot so that he was facing her again. "I've got an idea," he told her mysteriously, a little smile on his face.

And then he was gone.

-  **x**  -

The next morning, Marinette got grilled by her parents about why Chat Noir had been photographed leaving her room via the balcony..

 _He's my partner,_  she told her parents. _He's a boy,_  they told her. Which, let's be honest, was utterly ridiculous. Marinette had to bite her tongue to stop herself from telling her parents that she had spent plenty of time with Chat, alone, without their supervision. They also weren't dating (no matter what Alya wanted to believe).

As Marinette pushed through the somewhat-thinner crowd of reporters in front of the bakery, she prayed that today would be an akuma-free day.

Luckily, it was to be an akuma-free day. In fact, over all, day two was much better than day one. For example, the stares were also not so bad on day two. Maybe her classmates were realizing that she was not about to throw her costume on, right there and then, in the classroom. Many of them actually paid attention to the teachers, instead of obsessively staring at Marinette.

Good day or not, Marinette still sought out the broom closet at lunch. She was growing quite fond her quaint and quiet broom closet and the reprieve it gave her from her overbearing world.

That day and the next, the broom closet was the only place she truly got to escape to. At home, her parents acted more like prison wardens than parents. At school, Alya bombarded her with endless questions as her classmates snuck not-so-subtle glances at her.

All Marinette could do was to hold her head up and apprehensively await the next inevitable akuma attack.

-  **x** -

It wasn't until Thursday that she was finally apprehended on her sneaky escape to the broom closet. Someone grabbed her arm and cleared their throat.

Only, it wasn't Alya (who had been rather furious that Marinette had been ditching her at lunch). It was Adrien.

She was at a loss for words, but that wasn't new. Years of acquaintanceship still hadn't managed to teach her how to act around him. Oh sure, she'd recently mastered full sentences, but now with the whole Ladybug thing… _bleh_. Under the gaze of his green eyes, she felt like she was back to square one.

"Marinette, I was hoping you'd have lunch with me so that we can talk," he inquired politely.

"Talk?" squeaked Marinette. She was being more and more conscious about the fact that his hand was still on her arm. _I think I might melt,_  she thought.

Adrien broke out his perfect, toothy smile. "Yes, if you don't mind. I think I might be able... ah, assist you."

Oh, she definitely did not mind. He could assist her all that he wanted and then some. Marinette nodded dumbly and let Adrien guide her out of the school.

Adrien's limo, the one that always picked him up, was waiting in front of the school. Unfortunately, so were the reporters. Their cameras flashed and their voices called out as the pair of teenagers hurried towards the limo.  _Marinette, how did you become Ladybug? Marinette, who is Chat Noir? Marinette, when will the next akuma attack be?_

Adrien looked just as disheveled as Marinette by the time they got into the limo. "Gun it, Arthur," he grunted.

-  **x** -

"You're joking."

He wasn't.

Tentatively, as if they were a bomb in disguise, she carefully picked up the keys he'd place on the table. One, a car key. The other, an apartment key.

"It's too much." Marinette gently placed the keys back on the table.

Adrien frowned. "I disagree. It's barely anything. Honestly, I almost bought you a house." A house? Marinette blinked several times.

The waiter showed up to refill their drinks, which gave Marinette a moment to mull everything over.

Adrien Agreste was offering to pay for an apartment for her (or well, he had already rented it, but still) and provide her with a car. All for free. All because he wanted to make it easier for her to be Ladybug. He had told her that he imagined it can't be easy, what with the paparazzi treating her like a cheap celebrity. He told her that she deserved her own place… her own hideout (and yes, he'd used that exact wording).

That's why he had brought her to a very upscale italian restaurant, asked for a booth tucked in a corner, and pulled out the key ring.

 _My own apartment,_  Marinette considered, biting her lower lip,  _my own car._  Well, the car was excessive. Ladybug could get around just fine using her abilities. However, her own apartment meant that she wouldn't have to deal with her parents. Then again, was it even legal for a seventeen year old to live by herself? Marinette wasn't sure how that would work.

That didn't mean that it was okay for her to accept these gifts from Adrien. "Adrien, it's too much money." Apartments weren't cheap. Cars weren't cheap. Hell, her family could barely afford one family car.

"It's a drop in the bucket when it comes to the Agreste fortune," Adrien replied stubbornly as he reached out and nudged the keys closer to Marinette.

She picked up the keys again, inspecting them carefully. They looked entirely normal. She couldn't help but indulge the possibility a little. "Who else knows where the apartment is?"

"Well, other than me? No one. It's being rented under a pseudonym and not even my father knows about it. I'm using money funneled through my own personal bank account to pay for it."

"Oh," Marinette murmured. She was not in love with the fact that Adrien was basically lying to his dad by keeping in the dark about it, but, at the same time, she was pretty glad about it. Gabriel Agreste was polite, fashionable, and had raised an excellent son; that being said, in the few times that she had interacted with him, Marinette hadn't been able to shake the feeling that there was something off about him. Honestly, she had half a mind to suspect that the man was somewhat involved with the whole Hawk Moth business (although Chat was always quick to point out that she was crazy, Gabriel Agreste had been akumatized before).

Although, it really didn't matter whether Gabriel Agreste knew, because Marinette couldn't possible say yes. She couldn't possibly take advantage of Adrien's friendship like this.

But, then again... what other choices did she have? Ladybug needed to be able to save Paris. If she stayed with her parents, she might not be able to. It was crazy, but Adrien's offer might just be the blessing she needed.

Marinette played with the keys, turning them over and over in her fingers.

"Okay."

Her life was like a runaway train. Uncontrollable, unpredictable, crazy.

-  **x**  -

"... are you serious. Are you serious." Alya's words were more like a statement than a question. She stared directly into Marinette's eyes, the rest of her stock-still. "An apartment."

"Um. And a car," Marinette added.

In front of them, she could hear Adrien chortling softly.

"Oh my gaw-dah," Alya murmured, leaning back in her chair and letting head flop black. "This just keeps getting better." Better. The word wasn't a good descriptor for the situation in Marinette's opinion, but whatever. She didn't tell Alya so that she could argue with her.

Nah, she told Alya soon after she got back from lunch because, honestly, she felt like she owed to to Alya. For three years, she'd kept her friend in the dark about her superhero identity. That was three years of lies.

"Where is it?" Alya whispered with excitement.

There was a limit on the truth though, even for Alya. "Alya, I love you, but I don't know if I want anyone to visit me there. I want to keep it as much of a secret as I can."

Her friend pouted and crossed her arms. "Girl, I don't know how you can expect to keep anything a secret any more. You're in the spotlight now. Permanently."

 _Don't remind me_ , was what Marinette was about to reply. Before she could, their teacher hushed them.

While her teacher demoed some math questions on the board, Marinette found herself playing with the keys in her pocket.

-  **x**  -

Marinette was a terrible person.

She gulped deeply, hating herself a little bit as she whispered to Tikki, "Spots on."

"If you're sure…" Tikki sighed, before disappearing in a flash of red. Tikki had tried to talk her out of this.  _Just tell your parents_ , she had said,  _don't just sneak out with your things_.

But Tikki didn't understand. Marinette's parents wouldn't be okay with it. They wouldn't be like,  _oh yeah sure, go move into your new apartment that some boy at school paid for. That's fine._  To them, this would probably be just as bad as her fighting crime as Ladybug. Maybe worse.

Obviously, she couldn't cram everything she owned into a bag (although she tried). Clothes, shoes, photographs, a blanket, a pillow, her school work, a few trinkets; these were shoved in backpacks and reusable cloth shopping bags. However, some things were too delicate for her carry or were simply too big. Her computer. Her mattress. Her comforter. Her sewing machine.

She glanced at those items forlornly.  _I'll just have to make do,_  she thought. One day, maybe she could get a job and buy herself her own copies of those things. In the meantime, the library had computers she could use and the apartment was sure to have a floor that she could sleep on.

Tearing her eyes away from her things, Marinette focused on the mission at hand: get to the new apartment. She had already memorized the address from the piece of paper that Adrien had given her. That piece of paper now existed in fifty tiny pieces, spread between three trash cans.

Marinette was not taking chances.

Off she went, looking more like a red turtle than a ladybug with all her bags and items. From her balcony, she went in a funny direction, away from the reporters, who, for some ungodly reason, were still camped out in front of the bakery. Doubling back around was much better than getting more photographs taken, especially since those photographs would show her running away from home.

-  **x** -

"Holy shit." That wasn't a word combination that Marinette used lightly. However, this situation fully rectified its use.

The apartment downright regal. Beautiful white granite countertops, skylights, top-of-the-line appliances... it was shocking. On top of all that, every inch of the apartment was sparkly clean.

She carefully tiptoed further into the apartment, wondering if she got the wrong apartment number. The living room had furniture, clearly brand new. A huge flat screen TV, much larger than her parent's 40 inch TV at home, hung on the wall. This wasn't some empty apartment; this was a palace.

She almost didn't notice the note as it blended in with the white countertops. It was written in beautiful, sloping black ink.

> **Marinette, I hope you find everything to your liking. Please let me know if you need anything.**
> 
> **- _Adrien Agreste_**

Marinette's head was starting to hurt. This was too much.

Nonetheless, she continued her exploration of her new space. Further into the apartment, she found herself peering into a bedroom. Which had a bed. With sheets and a comforter. What.

She stepped into the bedroom and let all her bags drop unceremoniously to the ground. That's when she noticed the two desks: one with a brand new Apple computer and the other with perhaps the fanciest sewing machine she'd ever laid eyes on. No joke: the sewing machine had a full-color, touch-screen interface.

 _No way_ , she thought, her jaw dropping as she inched closer to the machine. Sure enough, the side of the machine proclaimed in red letters, BERNINA.

A Bernina sewing machine.

They were the absolute best sewing machines and also pretty much the most expensive. Some of the newer models, like the one she was now tentatively touching, cost several thousand dollars.

Pretty much everywhere she looked in the apartment, Marinette found little surprises like this. The cupboards were packed with expensive dishware and glasses. The drawers were neatly organized with pots and pans. The fridge was half full with milk, eggs, and fresh produce. There was even a handful of bottles of some fancy-looking, foreign brand of shampoo and conditioner in the bathroom linen closet.

Almost in a daze, Marinette unpacked her clothes and tucked away what little else she'd brought with her.

-  **x**  -

"How do you like -"

"It's too much!" Marinette didn't even let Adrien finish. She'd cornered him outside of the classroom in the morning. "It's… Adrien, it's fully furnished. And everything's new."

"I know," he replied with a big smile. Why did he think that this was normal? Marinette groaned.

"But…  _Adrien_. It's… well, so expensive..." She whimpered, not sure how to make him understand, not sure if it even mattered. Despite everything, she had still moved in. Her clothes were in the closet. Her photographs were in a desk drawer. Her blanket was thrown over the couch.

The beautiful boy shrugged, still smiling. "I'm not worried. You shouldn't either." Then, he reached forward and tugged on one of her pigtails playfully. "Anyways, it's already done. Too late for take-backsies!"

Marinette knew she was out of good arguments, so she just puffed out her lower lip to show her unhappiness.

He gave a little, amused shake of his head and then did something rather unexpected: he took a step forward and totally encroached on Marinette's personal space. Which, unlike with Chat, she wouldn't complain about.

Electric currents raced up and down her spine as Adrien whispered covertly, "It makes me happy to help you, ma chérie."

Her brain went offline. All she could do was stare at him, her face reddening, feeling dumb and happy at the same time. She drunk in his features; green eyes, smooth skin, gold hair. She didn't deserve his charity and didn't understand it. How could such a handsome boy also be so  _good_?

His eyes narrowed and his face changed to one of suspicion. The movement of his green eyes, darting up and down her face like he was hunting for something, helped snap Marinette out of her stupor.

"Ohwellthat'snicewellanywayswedon'twanttobelateforclass!" The words poured out of her mouth and then she ran like Hawk Moth himself was after her.

Alya was already in the classroom when Marinette arrived. Her over exuberant friend really,  _really_  wanted to hear about the apartment. Marinette hadn't even sat down before her friend was telling her to  _like,_   _spill, now_.

The excitement was a little bit contagious. Marinette did her best to fill in her friend, whispering as softly as she possibly could, in hopes that Adrien (who had taken his usual seat in front of her) wouldn't over hear her gossiping about the apartment. It was bad enough that Adrien had bought all that stuff for her; openly gloating about it would just be worse. Although, Adrien most likely figured out what they were whispering about when Alya yelled, "A  _Bernina_? You're shitting me!" Thankfully, their teacher wasn't in the room yet to hear that.

By the time class did start, Marinette had given Alya a full run-down of the apartment.

"So, what did your parents think of it? Were they angry?" Alya whispered as she pretended to take notes on Shakespeare.

"Um, they weren't particularly happy… but I didn't really tell them much… I kind of told them after the fact..." Marinette admitted weakly. Not only did Alya turn to look at her but so did Adrien, his brows furrowed.  _Was he listening in?_  Marinette wondered in horror.  _Great, now he knows how much of an awful chicken I am._

Before either Alya or Adrien could say anything to her, an announcement crinkled through speaker system.  _Marinette Dupain-Cheng, please come to the Principal's office immediately_.

Uh oh.

She had a little guess for what this was about. If she was right, it wasn't going to be pleasant.

As she walked out of the classroom, almost everyone was watching her curiously. Everyone, except for Adrien, who had his phone to his ear and was whispering frantically to someone.

-  **x** -

Last night, her parents had called her. She had picked up the first time. Her mother demanded to know where she was, so Marinette told her honestly,  _I'm at my new apartment_. Her mother hadn't taken that well. Many things were yelled at Marinette over the phone. Near the end of the conversation, her mother was getting so worked up that the occasional Chinese word was slipping into her diatribe.

If it hadn't been so emotionally devastating, it might have been comical. Sabine Dupain-Cheng switched back and forth between being furious and pleading. One moment, she was telling Marinette,  _you're an idiot, you will come back or else_. Then next moment, she was crying, _we love you Marinette, we just want the best for you, please don't do this_.

By the time she hung up on her mother (to her mother's utmost horror), Marinette had the horrible realization that this whole situation was affecting her parents much worse than it was affecting her.

In all honesty, Marinette always knew that there was a chance that her identity would be outed. Yes, it had been a nasty shock, but it hadn't been  _completely_  unexpected. Tikki had told her that some of her past Ladybugs had had their identities revealed; it happened sometimes. Her parents… her parents weren't expecting this by any means. One random morning, they find out their daughter risks her life on a weekly basis. Then to top that off, their bakery gets flooded with a stampede of reporters and over-enthusiastic fans.

Marinette was destroying her ill-prepared parents. But... she had to, for the sake of Paris.

The announcement had very clearly told her to head to the Principal's office immediately, but Marinette couldn't force herself to rush. Instead, she walked slowly, brushing her fingers against the lockers that lined the hallway.

-  **x**  -

The meeting was a catastrophe. Or, a _cat_ -tastrophe, as Chat would say.

Of course both her parents were waiting for her in the Principal's office. Of course they were furious. Her mother wouldn't stop crying, and, with every tear, Marinette felt her heart break a little bit more. She kept having to remind herself,  _I have to do this, the world needs Ladybug_.

Her parents stated at the very beginning of the meeting that she was a minor and did not have the right to move out. Or, as they kept calling it,  _run away from home_.

She disagreed.

Her Principal tried to play the moderator but it was clear he felt out of his league.

The discussion went nowhere fast. Every argument that Marinette brought up was shot down almost as quickly by her parents.

_I'm seventeen._

_Seventeen year olds are still legally minors._

_I'll be eighteen in four months._

_Right now, you are seventeen._

It took everything Marinette had to keep herself composed and keep tears from spilling down her own cheeks. Especially because she knew she was losing the argument. Her Principal was more and more reluctantly agreeing with her parent's points. He kept using the word  _legally_  almost every time he spoke.

It was a curt knock on the door that announced the arrival of Marinette's unforeseen saving grace.

Nathalie.

It had been awhile since Marinette had seen Adrien's father's assistant. And now, here Nathalie stood, with a clipboard and a hard expression on her face.

Nathalie introduced herself politely, her voice utterly emotionless. It remained that way, even after Nathalie pulled out some legal paperwork and tenderly laid it onto the Principal's desk. Nathalie started to explain what she had and what it meant, but Marinette barely heard it. She was riveted by the bold, serif letters at the top of the page

 **PETITION FOR EMANCIPATION** , it read.

-  **x**  -

The lock clunked as she turned the key. It was a wonderful sound, as if her apartment was saying to her,  _welcome back, come on in and relax, you've earned it_. Although, had she really? She was breaking her parent's hearts. It was overwhelming to think about. She had no choice, though. She had to, for Paris.

Marinette locked her dark thoughts into the back of her mind. If she kept thinking about it, she'd explode.

She started stripping off her clothes as she headed into the bedroom. Within two minutes, Marinette had slipped on a pair of cozy sweatpants and a loose tank top. This evening, she was going to eat the vegetables from the fridge like rabbit and watch TV. No homework, no work, no thinking. She needed a rest from it all.

Only, as she walked out of her bedroom and back into the living room, she discovered that she was not alone.

A certain kitty was lounging on her couch. He gave her a big cheshire grin. "Why hello there, Princess. I pawsitively adore this new paw-d that you've got here!"

Tikki buzzed out of the bedroom behind Marinette, took one look at Chat, and then began giggling. "I'll let you deal with this." The kwami buzzed pleasantly before turning and flying back into the bedroom.

"Chat, what are you doing in my apartment?" Marinette demanded, crossing her arms. "How did you even find it?"

He shrugged. "You're not hard to track, m'lady. 'Sides, why wouldn't I come visit you?" Chat batted his eyes in a rather flirty matter. Which reminded Marinette of something.

"Hm… hold on for a second," she told him, an idea coming to her.

"Anything for you, ma chérie."

Into the bedroom she went, grabbed what she needed, and stalked back out. Chat looked at her, baffled. He had the good sense to look frightened after he registered the irritation on her face.

He wasn't ready for her onslaught.

"THIS -" Marinette brought down her pillow on Chat, whacking him with a  _puff_ , "IS -" Again, another pillow strike, "FOR -" Chat was both laughing and yelping, "THAT -"  _puff puff puff_   "KISS!" She'd never gotten a good chance to punish him for that. Last time he'd visited, she hadn't been in the state of mind to even think about it. Now that she had dealt some revenge, she felt much better. She sighed and smiled at Chat, who was curled up in a fetal position on her couch, giggling so hard that he was gasping.

"... it was still worth it." He coughed out between his giggles, so Marinette gave him a couple more pillow whacks.

Five minutes later and Marinette was sprawled out on the couch.Chat had found two sodas in the fridge and offered one to Marinette as a peace offering. With a pleasant laugh, she'd accepted it. Then, he'd settled down on the couch with her. It felt oddly comfortable, relaxing with Chat Noir.

Part of her knew she was probably sending him the wrong signals, but… it was nice to have company. In a way, he was the only one who could understand what she was going through. She might be in love with someone else, but she still needed Chat. She loved him too. It was, well, just a different kind of love. Or, at least, she was pretty sure it was.

It hurt her brain to think about, so she didn't dwell on it.

Marinette had thrown her legs on top of his as she stretched out on the couch. As Chat babbled about some new movie he wanted to see, his left hand was tracing imaginary shapes against her calf. It sent little tingles up her leg. She did her best to focus on what Chat was saying, despite this distraction.

"So, how'd you get this sweet apaw-tment?" The question caught Marinette completely by surprise. Only Chat could jump so spontaneously from talking about movies based on ABBA songs to the subject of a new apartment.

"Oh," she said, hesitating, "um, a friend is paying for it. For me."

"A friend," Chat echoed, his gaze boring holes into her face.

"... yes."

"Must be a pretty good friend."

"… yeah."

"What's this friend's name?"

"None-of-your-business."

"Hm, I don't think I know any None-of-your-businesses. Is that his nickname?" Marinette reached down and grabbed the pillow, which was chilling on the floor next to the couch, and gave Chat another whack with it. This only made him laugh.

Then, the his damned suit beeped. "You'll have to leave soon," Marinette told him regretfully. She liked chilling on the couch with him. Then, in a moment of weakness, she indulged Chat with more information. "My friend - the one who's paying for this apartment - he's really great. I really don't know what I would have done if he hadn't set all this up for me. I mean, he shouldn't have, but…" She sighed deeply.

Chat bent towards her inquisitively. "It almost sounds like you like this classmate."

"Of course I do," she huffed back at him, stubbornly.

He laughed and shook his head, "Well, no, I meant, like, like-like him. But yeah, of course you like him if he's your friend."

She almost didn't say what she said next. A week ago, she would have never. But now, Marinette was opening up, letting Chat more into her world. He was a lighthouse and she was a ship sailing in a dark, turbulent sea; she wanted his advice, his presence, his friendship. So, she whispered honestly to him, "I do. Like-like him." Her whisper sounded more like a miserable whimper. She groaned aloud at her own feebleness.

"You… oh. You do." Chat's voice flattened out, all emotion dropping off his face and out of his tone. Marinette winced a bit; she should have anticipated this reaction. Chat was always flirting with her and then with the kiss last week… but, no, it was better to be honest with him. He needed to know that there was someone else in her heart.  _There's not enough room for both of you._  Well, she didn't say that part out loud. No need to rub it in, after all.

"Are… are you okay, Chat?" Marinette asked gently, reaching forward to give his arm a gentle squeeze.

"I… uh, yeah. Sure." He didn't look okay. There were emotions warring across his face, but it was too difficult to tell which emotions those were. His hand had abandoned her calf and now he was ringing his two gloved hands together in a nervous manner.

 _Great job, Marinette,_  she told herself,  _how many hearts do you need to break today?_  First her parents, now Chat. She went too far. She tried to backpedal with her next comment, hoping to lessen the blow. "I… oh Chat, it's not a big deal. He doesn't like me like that. I'm just, like, nobody to him."

For some reason, that didn't make it better. "Nobody!?" He gasped at her and Marinette shrunk back into the couch. She hadn't been expecting that blast of emotion. "Do you really think he doesn't care about you, Marinette?" He was frighteningly serious as he locked eyes with her.

"Umm…" Marinette could barely get the words out of her mouth correctly. "I - uh - don't know?"  _No_  seemed like the wrong answer to his intense question.

Then Chat moved, twisting so his body was over her. He shifted forward until he was positioned above and staring straight down at her, his knees against her hips.

Green eyes. Why did they seem so familiar?

"Listen to me," Chat spoke slowly, his voice husky. Marinette was definitely listening as much as her short-circuiting brain was capable of. "You are not nobody, not to anyone."

Her breath was coming out as ragged little gasps. Basically, her whole body was on fire in a  _really_  good way. The way that he was looking at her, half possessively, half drunkenly, was strangely thrilling. In those long seconds that he hovered over her, too close and yet not close enough, she felt absolutely intoxicated. When his hand reached forward and traced her chin, her whole body arched up involuntarily.

They both gasped, but for different reasons. Her, in embarrassment, and him, in surprise.

He lowered himself ever so slightly, his leather suit a meer inch above her wildly rising and falling chest.

His face was close to hers. This was different from the last time, though. It was so much more intense. Marinette was putty underneath Chat's claws.

His suit beeped again - a final warning.

He sighed. "It's too bad you'd rather kiss Adrien and not me, princess." There was a hint of amusement embedded in his sensual whisper.

Before Marinette could register what he had said, Chat was moving. He was already prying open the apartment balcony door when she hurriedly rolled off the couch and onto her feet. "Wait!" she shouted after him, a thousand questions rolling around in her addled brain.

With a wink, Chat somersaulted over the balcony and disappeared into the night.

 **\- x - x - x -**  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter was edited on 9/2/2018. In particular, the initial scene between Chat and Marinette was updated.


	2. Circling Sharks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette finds herself wondering how many ways there are to skin a cat. Her world is continuing on its descendant to pure chaos, assisted by Chat Noir, Chloé, the court systems, and an old man with a walker.

**\- x - x - x -**  

 

There was a letter in her mailbox. An actual letter; not one of those cleverly disguised advertisements.

It was Saturday morning and Marinette had decided to go downstairs and check her mailbox in hopes that there might be some coupons within the flyers and other such spam. In particular, she was hoping to find coupons for food. Paris’ favorite superhero had about three hundred euros in her personal account and she wanted to make it last as long as possible. She knew she’d soon have to get a part-time job but, in the meantime, she’d live frugally.

The legit letter stood out from the other three letters in her mailbox. Marinette haphazardly chucked the those three letters - one from a dentist office, another from a nearby apartment complex, and the last from a Nigerian prince - into the recycling bin.

The final letter’s envelope was beautiful. It was made out of a heavy, slightly yellowed paper that was soft to the touch. It was addressed to her in a familiar, slanted handwriting.

As she walked back upstairs to her apartment, she used a finger to carefully rip it open. The paper inside the envelope was as fancy, if not fancier, than the envelope.

The message the paper bore was short.

> _Marinette,_
> 
>   
>  _I could say that I simply forgot to give this to you at school, but that would be a lie. I felt like you would reject this item if I gave it to you, face-to-face. I’m hoping receiving it through the mail will increase your likelihood of actually using it._
> 
> _As a reminder, my family is obnoxiously rich. Please don’t feel the need to be thrifty when using this._
> 
>   
>  _\- Adrien Agreste_
> 
>   
>  _P.S. You might want to purchase something with a hood for when you go out._

There was something else in the envelope. Marinette fished two fingers into the envelope until she pinched a rectangular piece of plastic.

A credit card.

A deluxe credit card, for that matter. It was one of those credit cards with metal in the center, giving it a colder, more important feel. Marinette had seen these kinds of cards only on rare occasions when people with uppity expressions and nice suits came in to the bakery.

Adrien was right. She would have definitely rejected it, if he had tried to give it to her in person. In fact, even with the indirect delivery, she was still rather torn as to whether to use it or not. Twirling the problematic card in-between her fingers, Marinette wondered if it was better to take the easy way out and use the card, or go back to panicking about her dwindling funds.

Much to her chagrin, Marinette decided to use the card.

The first thing she bought was an oversized black hoodie. As it turned out, Adrien’s suggestion was pretty smart. From the moment that Marinette, sans-hoodie, had stepped foot into a clothing store, every eye in the place had become glued to her. Ducking her head low, Marinette had shuffled quickly through the store until she saw the hoodie. She hardly gave it more than a cursory glance before she grabbed it and brought it to the checkout.

As soon as she got back into her car, Marinette tore off the tags and yanked the hoodie over her head. Relief washed over her and she sighed deeply. Anonymity. Or well, sort of. It was better than nothing. Maybe it would take people more than two seconds to recognize her now.

Then, she noticed little slits for her thumbs at the end of the hoodie’s sleeves. _Neat,_ she thought pleasantly as she slipped her thumbs through them.

That’s when she felt the thick patches sewed onto the palms of the hoodie. Patches that, _of course_ , just so happened to be lime green paw prints. _Oh, please no,_ Marinette prayed as she tentatively reached up and touch the hood… and found ears.

Ears. Cat Ears.

Marinette banged her head against the steering wheel. She had purchased a Chat Noir themed hoodie.

But, no matter how horrified she was at this, Marinette didn’t have the guts to go back in and return the hoodie to the store of a thousand stares. _This is my life now,_ she grimly conceded as she threw her car into drive. 

-  **x** -

Much later, when she finally got back home, Marinette banished the hoodie to the back of her closet. She would die before she allowed Chat to see her wearing it.

\- **x** -

The sewing machine purred beautifully as it stamped its metal foot along the fabric. Caught up in her work, Marinette did not hear hear the first few taps on her balcony window. It wasn’t until she paused in order to inspect her stitching that she heard it - _clack, clack, clack_.

Marinette was not surprised to find Chat Noir leaning against the balcony window, beaming at her. It was starting to feel like a rather common occurrence, finding him at her window. Like a stray cat, he just kept coming back.

As she walked over to the balcony door, her mind briefly wandered back to the night before when Chat had pinned her down against the couch. _No, shut up,_ she told her brain, effectively squashing that train of thought. There was no reason to get herself all hot and bothered over… whatever that had been. The details were completely unnecessary to recall.

Although, yesterday's events did result in Marinette having some questions for Chat. Big questions, most of which concerned how the hell he knew the name _Adrien_.

She unlocked the latch and pushed open the door. “I don’t remember adopting you,” she told him as he strutted into the apartment like he owned the place.

“Would you like to?” He replied cheekily as he plopped himself down onto her couch.

She guffawed at his stupid question and decided to ignore it. Standing akimbo, Marinette stated flat out, “You realize I have questions, don’t you?”

Chat threw a leg up on the coffee table and then threw his other leg over it. “Yep, but I’m not going to answer a single one of them.”

Marinette stared at him for a long moment, annoyance bubbling up. This stupid cat had riled her up, dropped Adrien’s name, and then hightailed it out of her apartment. All that was less than twenty four hours ago! And now, he thought he could simply waltz right back in, make himself comfy her couch, and refuse to explain himself.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Marinette demanded dryly, “And you’re here because…?”

“You forgot?” Chat asked, amused, “It’s time for our weekly patrol.”

He was right. It was something the pair of them had started soon after getting their powers. At face value, the patrol was about looking for akumatized victims (which they did find sometimes), but it really was about something more. Especially in the recent months, they’d been trying to sleuth out the identity of Hawk Moth. They hadn’t found much, but that wasn’t a good enough reason to stop. Sometimes spinning your wheels in the mud was better than admitting defeat.

“Fine.” Marinette growled, “A quick patrol and then we’re done. Tikki!” Her little kwaki floated up out of an open drawer, a cookie in her hand.

“Present!” Tikki replied.

“Come on.” Marinette told her kwami in a much nicer tone than the one she was using to talk to Chat. She then turned and headed into her bedroom.

“Hey wait, where are you going?” Yelled Chat.

Marinette poked her head out from the bedroom. “Um, into my room to transform?”

Waving his hand vaguely at the living room, Chat stated, “Do it here.”

She blushed. “What, no.” The idea of transforming in front of him seemed… weird. Intimate, maybe. It was bad enough that camera had caught her de-transforming a week ago. Prior to that, no one had ever seen her change.

“Why not?”

“Because I said no.”

“But I want to _see_.” He drawled out the ‘ee’ sound in a whiny tone.

“Then get a mirror and do it yourself.” She snapped back.

Chat locked eyes with her and they both glared stubbornly at each other. That is, until the corner of his lip quirked up. “Okay.” He said with a little shrug as he pushed himself off the couch.

Marinette watched him suspiciously as he sauntered towards her… and past her, into the bathroom.

“Hey, look, a mirror!”

“Don’t you dare!”

\- **x** -

Sunday passed without an interruption from the cat, which was good. By the end of their Saturday night patrol, Marinette had been ready to murder Chat for a myriad of reasons ranging from his excessive flirting to his addiction to saying ‘ _paw-sitively’_ at every half-reasonable opportunity (seriously, three years of superheroing and it was still his favorite pun).

The peaceful Sunday allowed Marinette to be rather productive. She studied, completed her homework, cleaned, worked more on her sewing project, texted with Alya about something other than Ladybug for the first time in a week (Nino had asked her out on a date, finally), and then, at the end of the day, she settled down in front of the TV and watched some fashion design shows on Netflix.

Sunday was great.

Monday… not so much.

Well, Monday had its high points. It started out brilliantly, with Adrien catching her before class and asking if she’d like to go get lunch with him. Naturally, Marinette assumed it was just to discuss the apartment or something, but still. It was hard not to be thrilled about lunch with Adrien, no matter the reason.

She spent most of class doodling pictures of Adrien and Chat Noir.

Lunch started out great. Adrien had his chauffeur drive them to a cute little asian fusion restaurant, one that Adrien absolutely swore by. Somehow, Marinette managed to crack a silly joke. “I hope it leaves me _wonton_ more,” she had told him a shy smile.

He had laughed heartily. In her mind, she had celebrated like she had won a gold medal at the olympics. _She_ had made _Adrien_ laugh. It was monumental.

The food was good and the conversation was light but lovely. It kind of felt like a date even though Marinette knew it wasn’t. Sooner or later, she knew Adrien would bring up the reason why he invited her out. Just like last time, there would be some agenda. Not that she could be mad about that - last time, his agenda had been to give her a car and apartment.

 _He better not give me anything else,_ Marinette thought as she pinched a piece of beef with her chopsticks, _I’ll shred his fancy credit card right here in front of his face_ . Then, as she popped the beef into her mouth, she recalled that the card was made partially out of metal. She amended her previous thoughts with, _well, I’ll figure out how to shred it first… and then shred it. Yeah._

“So…” Adrien begun, swirling his fork around in his rice, “... how’s the apartment?

 _There it is_ , Marinette sighed internally but plasted a big smile on her face. “It’s great. Really wonderful. Too wonderful.” As soon as the words _too wonderful_ came out her mouth, Marinette panicked, realizing it sounded like she was complaining, “Ah-! B-but not, ah, in a bad way!”

Adrien chortled and told her, “I’m really glad to hear that.” He really did look glad, which was good. There was a tiny part of Marinette that was worried he might be bringing up because he was regretting offering the apartment to her. _Hey Marinette, I was just kidding about that apartment. I need you to move out now_. Luckily, that’s not what he said next.

What he said next was, “You know, if you wanted to adopt an animal, you could.”

Marinette stared at Adrien like he’d just grown an extra head. Adopt an animal? She was a seventeen year old girl who moonlighted as a superhero while trying to finish school. Why in hell would she do that? “... an animal?” She echoed, trying to be polite despite her shock.

Adrien beamed, flashing perfect white teeth. “Yes! Like, you know, a cat.” Marinette sat there, frozen, waiting for him to continue that thought. Waiting for him to provide some reasoning. Waiting for him to suggest literally any other kind of animal.

Only he didn’t. Humming cheerfully, Adrien went back to eating his food, seemingly completely unaware of how uncomfortable Marinette felt.

Finally, she forced herself to speak. “A… cat.” She repeated, hoping he would say something that wouldn’t so strongly hint towards Chat Noir. Hadn’t she made a joke about not adopting Chat when he had dropped by most recently? She couldn’t quite remember.

“Yeah!” Adrien replied, “Cats are great. They’re self sufficient, adorable, and great for cuddling.”

Marinette gave up on words and just sat there, baffled. Maybe she was reading into it too much. Maybe Adrien just liked cats a lot. Or, Adrien was not so subtly trying to bring up Chat Noir. Marinette wasn’t sure if she liked where this conversation was going.

“You know what?” He asked her, cheerfully picking up his fork and pointing it at her.

“Um, what?” She parroted back, feeling a bit freaked out. Either she was going crazy, or Adrien was acting a bit out of the norm. He seemed more… playful.

“I feel like you’re the kind of girl who’d appreciate a black cat.” He shoveled another fork full of rice into his mouth and chewed, looking rather pleased with himself. Marinette gaped at him. Right after he swallowed, Adrien added, “Maybe one with green eyes. What do you think?” There was a flirty tone to his words.

Marinette died a little as she realized that Adrien was just like Alya.

Alya, who was convinced that she and Chat were meant to be. Alya, who had freaking fan art of the two of them still up in her room (she refused to take it down, even after learning about Marinette being Ladybug). Alya, who had written some ridiculous story where she and Chat make out on top of the Eiffel tower.

It was horrifying to think that Adrien, her big crush, could be thinking the same way as Alya. Marinette did her best to maintain her cool, while mentally cursing all the stupid websites that had built up this public belief.

For her own sanity, Marinette needed to make it clear to Adrien that she and Chat were not an item. “Oh… no. I _haven’t_ and _don’t_ plan on letting in any stray cats into my apartment.” She told him, keeping her tone sweet but assertive.

“Hmmm…” He murmured in between bites, “Could have fooled me! Especially yesterday night. And the night before.” There was a big dopey smile on his face as he continued to nonchalantly eat.

Marinette tried to say something but instead she just sputtered half words. Giving up, she quickly scooped a few pieces of food up with her chopsticks and roughly shoved them into her mouth. _Smooth_.

He knew.

He knew about Chat Noir's visits.

Now only that, he knew _specifics_ about when Chat Noir had visited.

Why did he know? How did he know? As Marinette forced herself to chew, these thoughts spiraled around in her head, drowning her slowly but surely.

Only two people in the world knew that Chat Noir had visited Marinette at the new apartment. Those people? Marinette and Chat Noir.

The gears in Marinette’s head turned and turned. For a brief moment, she naively considered that maybe, just maybe, Chat Noir was Adrien. The thing was, she’d already eliminated out that possibility many times over the last few years. To start with, they didn’t really look the same. Yes, they both had blonde hair, but… well, they were different. It was hard to explain, specially since she couldn’t hold Chat’s image steady in her brain. Tikki had once explained to her that that was due to the magic behind the suit. It messed with how the brain perceived the miraculous holder… or something like that. Marinette hadn’t quite understood Tikki’s explanation.

No, if Adrien knew about Chat Noir, that then could only mean one reasonable thing: Chat had told Adrien about it.

This really wasn’t that unreasonable. She already knew that Chat knew about Adrien, at least vaguely; Chat had known that Adrien was the one who was paying for her apartment. Somehow, the two were in communication.  

And now, Adrien knew that Chat was visiting Marinette at that very apartment. That's why he asked her to lunch, so that he could try and subtly bring it up. Like Alya, he wanted to gossip about a possible Ladybug and Chat Noir relationship. It made Marinette feel sick to her stomach, despite the lovely aromas rising from her half eaten lunch.

All of this was because Chat, that stupid, crazy cat, was gossiping to Adrien about their nightly escapades.

Oh, she was going to _kill_ Chat.

Marinette, as soon as she’d finished swallowing the too-much-food that she had jammed in her mouth, immediately sought to change the subject. Without any reasonable segway, she blurted out something about Nino and Alya going on a date. Luckily, Adrien willingly took the bait, launching into a little story about how he’d helped encourage Nino.

The rest of lunch passed without any more Chat Noir references.

Adrien carried most of the conversation, having a great time telling Marinette about how Nino dragged Adrien shopping for a shirt he could wear on the date. Marinette did her best to keep up with the conversation, to _hmm_ and _haw_ at all the right points, despite how distracted she was. There was a bubbling rage building inside of her.

She found herself wondering how many ways there were to skin a cat.

\- **x** -

“Monsieur, don’t forget that we are leaving promptly for Toulouse after school.” Said Arthur - or, _the Gorilla_ , as Adrien liked to call him behind his back.

They were in Adrien’s limo, maybe about half the way back to school. Until that point, Marinette had been artfully corralling their conversation, keeping it on school topics and away from anything of feline nature.

Adrien groaned and rubbed his face. “I totally forgot. Ugh.” He looked over at Marinette, grimacing. “My father has a habit of scheduling photoshoots in the middle of the school week.”

Marinette had noticed. That year, it’d been worse than ever before. Marinette could think at least four times since Christmas break where Adrien had missed school for one of his fashion shoots. “Can you say no?” She asked curiously.

Adrien scoffed. “Oh no, definitely not. The company comes first.” The boy turned his gaze out the window and squinted at the shops they passed. Then, so softly that Marinette wasn’t sure if she heard correctly, he muttered, “The company always comes first.”

Marinette had the feeling that _the company_ was a delicate subject. Rather than reply, she garnered what little bravery she possessed and reached over and reassuringly squeezed Adrien’s hand.

The smile he gave her in return was blinding.

\- **x** -

There weren’t as many reporters in front of the school, but there was a crowd inside of the school. Their entire class was milling about in the hallway with expressions that ranged from boredom to annoyance.

Chloé was blocking the classroom door, looking defiant.

Adrien and Marinette pushed themselves to the front of the crowd to stand next to Nino and Alya. But, before they could ask their friends _what’s going on_ , Chloé spotted them.

“You!” Screamed Chloé, dramatically pointing a well-manicured nail at Marinette. “Caught. In. The. Act.” The blond girl snarled out, enunciating each word.

The crowd got quiet. Marinette didn’t bother raising her voice as she, rather lamely, replied, “Um, yeah? That was, like… a week ago.” Chloé was normally the queen of social media. It seemed absolutely baffling to be accosted by her over news that was, in internet time, decades old.

“Not that.” Chloé huffed. “This! Him!” That manicured finger switched to a new victim: Adrien.

“Chloé,” Adrien spoke firmly, gently pushing Marinette behind him as he stepped forward, “I don’t know what’s your deal today, but there’s no reason to make a scene.”

Glancing around at the students around her, Marinette couldn’t help but think, _too late_.

“Adrien, I’ll tell you what’s my deal! She. Is. Selfish!” A little fear pierced deep into Marinette. Did Chloé know about the apartment? The car? The credit card?

“Chloé, I think you’ve officially lost it,” Adrien growled. When Chloé began to stalk forward, closing the distance between them, he didn’t budge. His posture was defensive as Chloé stopped a foot in front of him.

Caught up in the confrontation, Marinette almost forgot about Alya’s presence until her friend’s hip bumped reassuringly into her’s. “Bitch.” Alya growled lowly so that only Marinette heard her, her eyes burned holes into Chloé’s beautiful face.

“Adrien, she is dangerous.” Chloé stated this loudly, her voice echoing in the otherwise silent, crowded hallway. Alya, Marinette, and Adrien all started speaking at once, outraged at her ridiculous comment.

“She’s a fucking hero -”

“You can’t be serious -”

“I would never attack -”

“Shut up, idiots!” Chloé screeched at them, her cheeks going red. The silence returned to the hallway, before Chloé continued, “She is! I’m not saying because she’ll hurt someone, but _Hawk Moth_ will! And, who do you think he’s going to go for? If he can’t get her, it’ll be those near to her.”

Well. That harsh nugget of truth was not something Marinette would have expected to come out of Chloé’s mouth. Her jaw hung open as she stared at Chloé over Adrien’s shoulder.

“First,” Chloé growled, “he’ll kill her family, sure. But who’s next? Alya? Or you, Adrien? I don’t want you getting _murdered_ because of -”

Adrien was furious. Marinette didn’t need to read minds to see that. He was shaking and his hands clenched into fists the moment that Chloé oh-so-casually mentioned that her parents would inevitably be _killed_ by Hawk Moth (a comment which made Marinette’s stomach do several terrified somersaults).

But it wasn’t Adrien who shut Chloé up. It was Alya.

With a right hook to Chloé’s face.

The quiet crowd exploded in screams and jeers. Chloé herself started screeching absolute bloody murder and she lurched at Alya. If Sabrina hadn’t caught her, wrapping up arms up and around Chloé’s armpits, Chloé might have started clawing at Alya. And, if Nino hadn’t caught Alya, wrapping his arms around her waist, Alya might have punched Chloé again.

“Bitch!” Chloé howled.

“Insensitive cunt!” Alya howled back.

- **x** -

Alya was suspended for the rest of the week. However, that did not stop her from being proud of the suckerpunch. That evening, Marinette found herself relaxing on Alya’s bed for the first time in a while.

“Did you see the picture that Nathaniel got? It’s brilliant. You can see the snot coming out of Chloé’s nose.”  Alya turned the phone to show Marinette. Marinette passively nodded in agreement, although she was pretty certain that the snot Alya was seeing was just the movement of the camera. Nathaniel had snapped the rather-blurry picture half a second after Alya’s fist had connected to Chloé’s cheek.

“It was pretty hot seeing you go all Amazonian on her.” Nino complimented with a grin that made Marinette feel somewhat like a third wheel.

Not that she would dare to complain about that; Alya and Nino had been making doe eyes at each other for long enough. Marinette was glad that their relationship actually seemed to be progressing.

Alya showed her and Nino some more images that she’d found on social media, including some of her “ _work_ ” - AKA, Chloé’s huge bruise.

“It says she’s going to sue you.” Nino said, pointing to the caption on the bottom of Chloé’s instagram post.

Alya scoffed incredulously, “I’d like to see her try. Can you imagine the headlines? _Rich bitch sues defender of Ladybug’s honor_.” Pausing, Alya tapped a finger to her chin in mock-thought, “Actually, I quite like that. Sounds good, don’tcha think?”

Nino agreed heartily but Marinette didn’t. She hadn’t been listening; she had retreated into her own head.

Since lunch, Chloé’s words had been circling around and around in her mind. _He’ll kill her family._ Hell. It hurt hearing that come out of someone else’s mouth. Marinette knew it was a possibility. It had always been a possibility, whether her identity was public or not. When she was younger, sometimes the thought would keep her up late at night: _what if Hawk Moth comes after my parents? What if he comes after my friends?_

Marinette would not be able to protect them. Sure, she considered herself a pretty good superhero, but she was not perfect nor omnipresent. She couldn’t always be there with her loved ones, ready to protect them. If Hawk Moth really wanted, he could probably kill them, easy.

However, there was one particular fact that greatly mitigate most of this fear:

Hawk Moth and his akumatized victims had never, in over three years, killed anyone. Not even by accident.

Long ago, based on their many akuma battles, she and Chat had optimistically (and sure, precariously) concluded that Hawk Moth did not want to kill. He wanted their miraculouses, yes, but not their deaths. Their villain wasn’t all evil.

A hand waved in front of Marinette’s face. “Hello-oo, earth to Marinette?”

Marinette came back to reality, blushing in embarrassment. “Sorry, I was just…”

“Marinette.” Alya interrupted her, frowning sternly. “You’re letting Chloé get to you.”

She could only shrug. “She’s not… entirely wrong.”

“Yes she is.” By Alya’s tone of voice, it was clear that this wasn’t up for debate. “Hawk Moth isn’t the freaking mafia. He could have killed half of Paris by now if he really wanted to.”

Blanching, Marinette squeaked, “Jeez Alya, I don’t think he could do t-that!”

Alya shrugged. “Some of those akumas have had some serious power. And yet, nobody dead.”

“Me and Chat have both nearly died a few times.”

“By accident. The akumas don’t aim to kill you two. Do you remember Sharpshooter?”

Marinette shivered a little. “How could I forget? He blasted my knee into thousand pieces. It was easily the worst pain I’ve ever felt.” Sharpshooter probably had been her least favorite enemy. Despite the egregious pain from her shattered knee cap, Marinette had to pretend like she had only sprained her ankle when she got home. For a good week, while her body powered through the healing process with the assistance of the miraculous powers, she had to pretend that it didn’t feel a thousand knives stabbing through her leg with every step.

“Right, well,” Alya continued, “that guy shot Chat’s baton from his hand from, like, two hundred yards away. And yet, when he shot you, he shot you in the knee. The knee. Marinette, people don’t die from being shot in the knee. They get immobilized, but not dead.”

Chewing her bottom lip, Marinette recalled thinking about that very thing, back when she’d been hobbling up and down the stairs with her busted knee, a fake smile for her parents plastered on her face. “I know, but maybe the person within Sharpshooter morally wasn’t okay with murder?” Marinette countered. Akumatized victims often had some control over their own actions.

“But what about all the others? Marinette, it’s been true for all the other akumatized peeps too.” Alya taped her phone knowingly, “Trust me, I’ve watched some of the videos of your fights hundreds of times.”

Marinette smiled a little in spite of the severity of their conversation. “Hundreds of times? Okay, sure.”

“No, trust me, she’s not lying.” Nino spoke up, grimacing. “I’ve had to watch some of them with her. Over, and over, and over again. It’s terrible.”

“No it’s not, it’s fun.” Alya humphed and glared at him.

“Ah… I mean, I love watching the same video with you hundreds of times, babe.”

“That’s better.” Alya purred.

As soon as Alya looked back at Marinette, Nino made a point of silently communicating with Marinette by vigorously shaking his head as if to say, _no, really, it was terrible_.

 

\- **x** -

 

On Tuesday evening, Marinette was lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling. She was thinking about her court meeting the next day. This brief meeting with the judge was supposed to decide whether or not she, at seventeen, could legally live on her own and make her own decisions. Decisions, like being Ladybug and saving Paris.

“Marinette, are you okay?” Tikki asked, floating closer to her.

“No,” Marinette replied honestly, “I feel terrible, Tikki. This whole emancipation thing… it just feels so drastic.”

Tikki seemed to consider that for a long moment. “Then… don’t go through with it.” The kwami suggested.

Shaking her head, Marinette explained, “I can’t do that, Tikki. My parents don’t want me to be Ladybug. But, I need to be Ladybug. Paris needs me to be Ladybug.” Tikki listened, her big eyes glistening with empathy. “Besides,” Marinette added, “Nathalie went through all the trouble of setting it up. I can’t just tell her no at this point.”

“Marinette,” Tikki replied, speaking slowly as if she was carefully considering her words, “don’t you think it was a little odd, the whole thing? I mean, don’t you feel like maybe you’re being pushed into this process?”

Pushed? No, she was pushed when her parents tried to ground her from being a superhero. “It’s kind of necessary, Tikki.” Marinette sighed deeply. “Necessary… but suckish.”

Tikki continued to look at her sadly.

Closing her eyes, Marinette added, “They’ll still be my parents. They’ll always be my parents.” Hopefully, eventually, they would come around and accept her decisions. Hopefully, eventually, they’d forgive her for lying to them for three years.

Hopefully.

\- **x** -

On Wednesday morning, Nathalie intercepted Marinette on her way into the school in order to hand her some documents, ones that showed that she was financially provided for and currently enrolled in school.

Marinette didn’t know how Nathalie had gotten her school records, but she didn’t bother to ask.

“Thank you,” Marinette said.

Nathalie hesitated, inspecting Marinette. The always somber secretary appeared apprehensive. “Adrien…” Nathalie spoke cautiously, “... seems to have taken a liking to you.”

Blushing, Marinette rubbed the back of her neck. “Oh, ah…” This was awkward. “W-we’ve been friends for awhile.”

An emotion passed across Nathalie’s face. For a very brief moment, she almost looked… guilty. But, it was gone before Marinette could think twice about it. Without another word, Nathalie turned and walked off, her heels clicking loudly against the sidewalk.

\- **x** -

Marinette got to the courthouse half an hour early and found herself sitting in the waiting room with her parents.

Her mother asked her how school was going. Her father asked if the place she was staying was comfortable. Marinette was cautious but not cold when she answered. It felt weird talking to them now, after everything.

After what she’d done. After what they’d said.

But… they were still her parents.

At the start of the meeting, Marinette submitted her paperwork to the judge. Her parents did the same. The judge shuffled through the papers for a few lengthy minutes, occasionally reaching up to his face to poke his reading glasses farther up his nose.

As they waited, Marinette snuck a few sidelong glances at her parents. They had both dressed well, but otherwise looked haggard. Her mother, in particular, had dark bags under her eyes.

Finally, the judge looked up from the paperwork and asked Marinette some straightforward questions.

“How are you going to afford food?”

“I have a friend providing financial, ah, assistance to me.”

“And why do you think they are doing that?”

“They want to… support me and what I do.” Playing the superhero made Marinette feel sick, but she knew she needed it. After all, what else did she have going for her?

“Will you still attend school?”

“Of course. College too, hopefully.” Marinette had been allowing herself to consider that as a possibility, once again. If she could survive high school as an outed superhero, she could survive college too.

He never asked her why she was moving out, nor did he ask her parents a single question.

“I’ve reached my conclusion. Considering all of the _special circumstances_ ,” it was pretty obvious he meant by that, “I have decided to rule that your petition is valid, and as of now, you are to be considered legally separate from your parents.”

Her mother started to cry. Her father wrapped his arms around her. Neither of them bothered to argue with the judge.

\- **x** -

In the lobby of the courthouse, her father called for her to wait. Marinette paused in her beeline to the door and allowed him to catch up with her. An awkward moment passed as daughter and father sized each other up.

It was Tom, her father, who spoke first. “Marinette… there will always be free pastries for you at the bakery.”

Another moment passed where Marinette stared at her father, shocked.

Then, she threw herself forward and wrapped her arms around him. “I’ll visit often,” she promised.

\- **x** -

Marinette hummed as she rinsed the conditioner out of her hair. It smelled lovely, like fresh baked cookies. Adrien had very good taste in conditioner, that was for certain.

She turned the shower off and sighed pleasantly.

The day had been a rather lovely Thursday. Her father had, at some point that morning, dropped off a bag of delicious éclairs at the school for Marinette. She’d shared them Nino and Adrien, the latter of whom arrived back from his photoshoot half way through the day. After school, Marinette had brought Alya an écliar and some schoolwork (“Yeah, I’ll take the pastry and you can keep the papers.” Alya had joked). Marinette had then stayed at her friend’s place for a few hours, playing video games and discussing miraculous lore.

Now, it was nine in the evening and Marinette was squeaky clean and ready for a restful sleep. Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around her waist and another around her hair.

And then her television, the one in the living room, blared to life.

The introduction for some cooking show started playing, filling the apartment with music and recorded chatter. Marinette froze, dread racing up and down her spine. Had Hawk Moth finally decided to pay her a visit?

“Tikki.” Marinette hissed, “There’s someone here.”

Tikki floated into the bathroom and giggled nervously. “Don’t worry Marinette, it’s no one dangerous.” The kwami’s words pacified Marinette’s fear but also fueled her irritation.

Eyes narrowing, Marinette murmured dangerously, “It’s Chat, isn’t it?”

The kwami shrugged and smiled, “Take it easy on him, Marinette.”

\- **x** -

Chat was fully sprawled out on her couch, the remote control resting on his chest. His eyes lit up when Marinette walked into the living room, wearing pajamas and a scowl. “Good evening, princess!” He greeted her cheerfully.

Marinette ignored him in favor of walking into the kitchen and rifling through one of her cabinets.

He watched her curiously. “Whatcha got there?” He asked her as she walked out of the kitchen, something held behind her back.

Marinette smiled kindly. “I’m only going to ask nicely once, kitty, so listen carefully.” The television babbled on in the background as Chat’s expression changed to one of apprehension.

“Uh…”

“What did you tell Adrien about us?”

Chat’s eyes got wide and his lips pressed together. It looked like he was trying to keep himself from laughing. Cautiously, he responded to her, “Ah… ma cherie, I’m _paw_ -sitive that I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Wrong answer.” Marinette chastised him sweetly, her eyes glinting dangerously.

That’s when she pulled the spray bottle from behind her back and aimed it dead on at Chat.

“Talk, cat.” She growled, her tone explicitly threatening this time.

His face continued to contort with barely held back laughter. Despite her threat, he sarcastically replied to her, “Sure, I’ll talk. Meow meow meow meow -”

She fired.

_Phft phft phft phft._

Chat erupted into intense giggles as the water stream hit him. It was ruthless, the onslaught that Marinette unleashed on him. Even when his breathes came in gasps from too much laughter, she didn’t stop her attack. It wasn’t until he raised his hands and panted in-between gasps, “haha okay actually stop now please, it’s really fucking cold,” that she relented.

She kept the squirt bottle levied at his face and said, “There’s more where that came from.”

“Yeah, it’s called a faucet.”

_Phft phft phft phft phft phft._

“ _Oka-aay_ , I’m sorry! You can stop.” Chat reached out and grabbed the end of the squirt bottle, redirecting it away from him. Marinette continued to glare at him stubbornly. “Geez, who peed in your cheerios, Bugaboo?”

“You, Chat!” She yelled at him, “You peed in my -” She realized how stupid her sentence was going to be half way through saying it.

Chat quirked an eyebrow up. “Go on.”

“Shut up.” She huffed, before getting to the point. “You, Chat, told Adrien that you’ve been visiting me at night!”

He clapped a hand over his chest in mock sincerity. “M’lady! How could you suggest such a thing! I feel _paw_ -sitively betrayed!” Unfortunately, Chat had a steady grasp on the squirt bottle. If he didn’t, Marinette would have started to squirt him again.

“Stop lying, Chat.” Marinette pouted, “He knew you visited me on Thursday and Friday last week!”

There was a moment where the only noise came from the television. Chat seemed to become more serious as he inspected her face, like he was considering something.

Finally, he sighed and relented with a heavy shrug of his shoulders. “Okay, you got me, Bugaboo. I might have mentioned it to him.”

“Chat!” Marinette cried, her voice going a bit whiny. “Why would you do that? You know I like him. Now he probably thinks we’re a couple.”

Chat was snorting with laughter again and he dropped his gaze to the carpet. Frustrated, Marinette used her free hand to flick the side of Chat’s head. “It’s not funny!” She snapped at him. Was everything a big joke to Chat?

“Whoa whoa, calm down Mari, it’s fine.” Said Chat as he tried to regain his composure. He waved his free hand (the other one was currently keeping Marinette from braining him with the spray bottle) reassuringly. “Look, he knows we aren’t an item. Trust me. _He knows_.”

He sounded very certain. That reassured Marinette to some degree.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m _paw_ -” Marinette yanked on the spray bottle, her expression darkening. Chat gulped his pun down and quickly amended his phrasing, “- ah, I mean, I’m sure.”

Marinette chewed her bottom lip and forced herself to think rationally. She was pretty sure that Chat wouldn’t lie to her about something like this. “Okay.” She finally muttered.

“Good! Now, let’s relax and watch some television!” Before Marinette could protest, Chat had wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her down onto the couch beside him, so that her thighs stretched sideways over his. He launched into an explanation. “Right now, they’re having to make an entré with gummy bears!”

“Chat!” Marinette chirped, trying to wiggling out of his grasp. His arm was locked like a vice around her, keeping her pressed against his side. She could feel his body heat even through her pajamas and his leather suit. It was both annoying and somewhat embarrassing.

“I know, it sounds impossible! But the girl there - with the long hair - she’s combining them with pork chops, which I think is pretty smart -”

“Chat.”

“- only she’s waiting too long to start those pork chops, how earth is she going to get them cooked on time? Now, the guy next to her -”

“ _Chat_.”

“- his recipe isn’t as clever but he’s more on top of the time by and far -”

“Chat, damn it!”

He paused in his diatribe and craned forward so that he could look her in the eyes. “Yes, Mari?” He asked innocently.

Marinette did her best to look intimidating and angry despite the flush of red staining her cheeks. “First of all, we are _not_ done discussing Adrien, and secondly, release me.”

“Tell you what. Pick one of those two and I’ll agree.”

Her jaw dropped open. Well, at least he was, in a way, agreeing to talk more about Adrien. “Fine.” She conceded as she stopped struggling and allowed herself to relax. “How do you know Adrien?”

Chat’s eyes drifted momentarily up to the ceiling and he hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I guess you could say we go way back.”

“So… you’re friends?”

“Kinda. Sure. Yes.”

There was something fishy in Chat’s answers. It was like he was trying to skirt around the truth.

That’s when it occurred to Marinette. She twisted as much as she could with Chat arms locked around her. His eyebrows lifted as she scrutinized his face, trying to read the truth.

Chat cleared his throat nervously. “Take a picture, princess, it’ll last longer?” The tease sounded so unsure it might as well have been a question.

“I get it now.” Marinette murmured softly, intently.

“You... do?” His whisper was rough, emotional.

Steady blue eyes met shy green eyes.

“Yes…” She whispered… and then raised her voice and shouted at him, “You’re mooching off Adrien!”

His hands released her so quickly that she slipped from his lap and onto the floor. Blinking hard, Chat apologized, “Ah, sorry, I- uh… wasn’t expecting that.” He gave his head a good shake while Marinette picked herself off the floor and stalked a few feet away from him. Frustration was practically rolling off her in waves. Chat asked her incredulously, “You think I’m… _mooching_ off him?”

She did an about face and stuck her hands on her hips. “I don’t know! Maybe! Maybe he’s paying for an apartment for you too. That’s why you know him. Because he supports you too.” It made perfect sense to Marinette. Adrien was too kind. If Chat had gone to him and asked for his own apartment, his own car, and his own credit card… Adrien probably would have happily provided it.

“Uh huh…” Chat drawled slowly, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “You seem awfully bothered by this, princess.”

Marinette flailed her arms and she whined at him, “Chat, you can’t just take advantage of Adrien like that!”

“Oh, but you can?”

“That’s different!”

“Oh! I get it. Only _you_ can take advantage of him.” There was something terribly indecent implied by Chat’s tone. As if it wasn’t obvious enough, he also threw in a big wink.

Marinette threw the entire spray bottle at him. He yelped and ducked just in time. The plastic spray bottle bounced harmlessly on the couch and rolled to the ground.

“Oh, come on,” Chat complained, “that was funny.”

Marinette’s face was hot with embarrassment. “Yeah, well, so is your face.”

Another pause. Both of them stared at each other. The television continued to gurgle, some judge talking about the flavor palette presented by the gummy bear pork chop.

And then they both started to laugh.

The tension melted away. Marinette apologized for trying to kill Chat with the spray bottle. He followed her lead and apologized for teasing her.

Three years, working side by side with someone, relying on them to have your back when facing danger, produces stronger ties than any little bicker could ever destroy. Although Marinette would never admit it out loud, she could not stay mad at Chat for long. Some of the frustrating things he did were also some of the most charming to her.

She flopped back down onto the couch next to him.

Chat spoke honestly, “Marinette, Adrien isn’t giving me anything, financial or otherwise.”

Frowning a little, Marinette asked him, “Then... what is your relationship with him?”

That’s when Chat scooted towards her and tenderly took her hand into his own. “Mari.” His green gaze was intense and seductive, captivating Marinette. His tone became serious. “If I told you… I’m pretty sure it would reveal my identity.”

Not for the first time, Marinette found herself considering whether she wanted to know Chat’s identity. Her partner, her kitty, her pain-in-the-ass. If she knew, everything would be more complicated. They would be more than two superhero partners. Emotions would - or, at least, could - be taken to a whole new level.

Did she want to know Chat Noir better? Did she want to be closer to him?

Yes.

Did she want to encourage the entropy that already defined her life?

No.

Her feelings battled each other. Her fear versus her curiosity. Her anxiety versus her morals. Her desire for stability versus the blooming affection she felt for Chat.

Tears began to well up at the edges of her eyes. Marinette hated herself for not being able to choose.

A sad smile grew on Chat’s face and he reached forward with a gloved hand to dab at the corner of her eye. “Don’t worry about it. Forget I said anything.” He whispered, his voice pained. Why did Marinette feel like she was breaking his heart? Or, was it her own that was breaking?

That’s when they heard the explosions. Far off in the distance, visible through the balcony window, a handful of bright flashes sparked like flightless fireworks.

\- **x** -

“I am the Boomer!” The akumatized victim screamed into the night.

“Yeah, maybe the _baby_ boomer.” Chat Noir huffed, sounding bored already.

The two of them were half hidden, crouched on a roof where they could watch the Boomer inch down Rue Piat street. Occasionally, the Boomer would take his hand off his walker (“Seriously?” Chat had whispered, “Is Hawk Moth even trying anymore?”) to throw little colorful discs either into the shops to his left or into the Parc de Belleville to his right.

Glass and wood cried as the colorful discs detonated, destroying all that was nearby.

“We need to bait him into the park and away from all the shops.” Marinette, now Ladybug, pointed out.

Chat stared at her for a moment. “Mari, have you forgotten that you can reset all the damage to the stores?”

Rolling her eyes, Marinette told Chat, “Obviously. I just mean that we don’t want to get hit with glass or metal shrapnel.” About two years ago, some akumatized lady who’d been furious at her reflection had went around shattering every mirror in Paris. Both Marinette and Chat had been at the receiving end of some of the shards that had fractured off those mirrors.

Sure, the rest of Paris had gotten a lovely face lift from Marinette’s Ladybug magic, but the two of them had been left limping away to lick their wounds in secret.

Chat grimace, probably remembering the same incident. “Oh, yeah, good point.”

“Let’s see if my Lucky Charm can help us with that.” With that, Marinette twirled the string of her yoyo, swinging it around and upward. As it hit its high point, she chanted the keywords, “Lucky Charm!”

A large, red-and-black bowl came falling back down. The contents sloshed as Marinette caught it, cranning forward at the unexpected weight. “What the hell?” She said as she squinted at the bowl, which was filled with a thick cream.

Taking a step towards her, Chat reached out a hand and swiped up a bit of the cream from where it had splattered onto Marinette’s cheek. With no regards for the fact that it could literally be poison (her Lucky Charm could be unpredictable), he licked it off his glove.

Marinette blushed. She wished she hadn’t. Spending all this time around Chat Noir was making her brain was all sorts of glitchy.

Suddenly, he started laughing, loud enough to alert the Boomer to their presence. Marinette smacked a red gloved hand over his mouth, shushing him through gritted teeth. Down below, the Boomer started demanding, “Who’s there!? Get off my lawn, ya whippersnappers!” Luckily, he was looking around wildly, seemingly unsure where the _whippersnappers_ he was searching for were.

“What’s wrong with you?” Marinette hissed, taking her hand back.

Pointing a clawed finger at the bowl, Chat giggled, “It’s banana pudding. OId people love banana pudding.”

Marinette slapped a hand onto her own face this time, groaning. “Wonderful. We get to fight Mister Explode Stuff with banana pudding.”

“Delicious banana pudding.” Chat added before reaching out again with his greedy paws, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. Marinette slapped his hand away from the banana pudding bowl, scowling.

“No, bad kitty. Focus.”

Chat pouted a bit at that, but agreed. Together, the two propelled themselves up and off the building. While Chat Noir got to duck and roll as he landed, Marinette had to carefully squat as she landed in order to keep the banana pudding in its bowl.

“You! Hoodlums! Whippersnappers! You appreciate nothing!” The Boomer screamed as soon as he saw them. Then, he started chucking the discs at them.

Up close, Marinette realized that they were a lot smaller than she had originally thought. Each disc was only a bit over a centimeter long and was somewhat opaque - or well, it was, in between its warning flashes, that is. Thankfully each disc ten or so good seconds, its flashes occurring faster and faster until - _boom_. Her and Chat had plenty of time and warning to jump away from each bomb before they went off.

If the Boomer hadn’t been so stinking old, his abilities could have easily have made him one of the most dangerous villains they had ever faced. The explosions from each little disc produced clouds of dirt and dust that were taller than Marinette. Watching them go off reminded her of old war movies with mortar fire.

“Those discs are no joke, Chat! Be careful!” Marinette yelled over at her partner, who was several yards away.

“Chips!” He yelled back.

Marinette blinked in confusion. “What!?”

“They’re chips - bingo chips, I think!” Then, as if he just couldn’t resist the temptation, Chat added, “We probably have to take… a few _gambles_!” He grinned large and looked hopefully at Marinette, as if she might congratulate him for his pun.

She didn’t.

Instead, she raised the bowl of banana pudding above her head and shouted, “I’ve got some banana pudding! Would you like some?”

The Boomer seemed to thoroughly consider his offer.

It helped when Chat added, “It’s delicious! Freshly made!”

“Did you make it the way it’s supposed to be made!?” Boomer howled his question as he slowly adjusted himself and his walker to face them.

“Um… yes. Of course.” Marinette replied.

“What’s that!? I can’t hear you!”

“Yes sir, it is made correctly!” Marinette all but shouted this time.

“None of that fake vegan shit?” The Boomer’s voice dropped, sounding less angry and more cautiously curious. “Real milk and good ole American bananas?”

“I’m pretty sure that there is no such thing as American bana-” Chat began to say.

“Chat, shut. Up.” Marinette snapped at her partner, before replying kindly to the Boomer, “Yes, sir, completely American bananas! Whole milk and, uh, whole… butter.”

“Whole butter.” Repeated Chat with a quirked eyebrow and a grin. Marinette shrugged in response.

It seemed good enough for the Boomer. Mumbling under his breath, the akumatized old man began to waddle over to them.

It took awhile.

It didn’t help that there were plenty of curves that Boomer had to delicately raise his walker over and then each foot. Chat made a point of yawning and checking an imaginary watch on his wrist. Almost three full minutes later, Boomer made it over to the two heroes.

Marinette held out the banana pudding, forcing the friendliest smile she could muster onto her face. Boomer didn’t smile back, but he also didn’t look particularly displeased as he took both hands off his walker and reached for the banana pudding.

“Now, Chat,” Marinette grunted through her fake smile.

“Cataclysm!” His right hand become enveloped in black bubbling energy.

“What in tarnation -!” The old man exclaimed, flailing his arms as he rocked and stumbled backwards.

Chat’s claws came down on the walker, splicing through it. As the pieces fell apart, a glowing butterfly fluttered up and out of it. Marinette wasted no time. Shifting the banana pudding to one hand, she used the other to throw her yoyo at akuma, catching it. A quick yank brought the yoyo back to her hand. Using her thumb, she drew a quick line down the yoyo, releasing the now purified akuma.

She hummed proudly. Sometimes, she and Chat were criminally good at their jobs.

Meanwhile, the old man continued to backup unsteadily, muttering under his breath something like, _this is why I don’t trust dangnabbing technology._

Then, Chat gasped, “Mari!” She tore her gaze away from the white butterfly and over to him. “Chips!” In the next, painstakingly long, second, she followed his gaze, which was not on her but rather on the ground below them. The ground, which was littered with a hundred orange chips, each blinking faster and faster.

_Oh no._

If she did her reset now, it wouldn’t matter. Her gut reaction took over and she hurled the banana pudding, bowl and all, into the air. In her peripheral vision, she registered that Chat was crouching, about to spring backwards. He hesitated as she, with her one-track mindset, began to scream, “ _MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!_ ”

She was still screaming _bug_ when Chat, cursing fiercely, darted forward instead, grabbed her, and jumped.

The bombs went off half a breath before her reset charm swallowed the sky.

 

 **\- x - x - x -**  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dangnabbing technology, always causing dangerous explosions. 
> 
> Bad dangnabbing technology. /Phft phft phft phft./


	3. Healing Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir saved her. Of course he did, he is her partner. That being said, he could have been hurt because of Marinette's own mistake... how can she repay him? Or, should she do him a favor by giving up her miraculous to someone who will be a better partner to him?
> 
> Marinette deals with her mistake.

\- **x** \- **x** \- **x** -

Her head hurt.

No, it was worse than that. It was like someone was taking a jackhammer to her brain. She squeezed her eyes tight and tried to ignore the painful pressure that threatened to swallow her. What kind of headache was this? And, more importantly, why did she have it? And…

Where was she?

Marinette carefully peeled her eyes open, wincing at light that was filtering through the blinds.

She was in her room, in the apartment.

Her memory was all sorts of fuzzy, misted by pain. Marinette couldn’t remember going to bed. In fact, she couldn’t remember much of anything. Was it Wednesday? Was it Friday? Did something happen? Perhaps she was broken. Perhaps the powers of the miraculous were finally too much for her body to handle.

Tears welled to her eyes from the pure agony within her skull. She began crying, hard. Every deep breath sent shivers of pain down her whole body, which only caused her to gasp deeper. It was a vicious cycle.

There was a pressure on her shoulder. Marinette forced herself to look up and focused on the figure leaning over her. Glasses, brown hair, tan skin, a kind smile. “Alya,” Marinette croaked pitifully.

Her friend was holding out a glass and two blue pills. “Advil,” whispered Alya gently, “and water.” Marinette cried harder, more than thankful. It wasn’t easy, but Alya patiently helped her sit up enough to pop the pills in her mouth and drink enough to swallow them down with.

Alya sat at her bedside, stroking Marinette’s arm gently, while Marinette cried herself back to sleep.

\- **x** -

The second time that Marinette woke was better. Her head still hurt, but it was nothing like the splitting pain that she had first suffered. Now, it was more like a rather typical bad headache. It also helped that there was no painful light trickling into the room. The world was dark and quiet outside of her window, with the exception of the faint music of crickets.

Marinette sat up slowly and peered around her dark bedroom.

Beside her, chest rising and falling in sleep, was Alya. So, she hadn’t been dreaming earlier. That really had been Alya giving her advil. Marinette wasn’t sure how Alya was in her apartment, but she was sure glad she was there. _She’s taking care of me,_ Marinette realized, _but why?_

What had happened to her?

Her phone was sitting on her nightstand. Marinette grabbed greedily, hoping to find some answers. Only, what she found wasn’t answers. It was scrapes. Nasty, long scrapes all along her phone screen. The glass front looked like someone had run a lawn mower over it. Marinette gasped in horror.

With shaking hands, she tapped the lock button. Less than half the glass front lit up, and what lit up did so in thick stripes that were only half legible due to a spiderweb of cracks in the glass. When she tried to swipe on the screen, tried to click on a half-visible notification, but nothing happened. The touch-screen was unresponsive.

Her phone, her _very expensive_ phone that she had gotten from her parents as Christmas gift, was utterly trashed. Now Marinette was miserable for multiple reasons.

She held the phone closer to her face, ignoring the sharp pain in her head from the screen’s brightness. Two of the notifications on the lock screen were partially legible. There was a text from her mother, but all she could read was:

 

**Mom**

_Mari, please tell us know you are_

▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇

 

Whatever came next was blocked by a dead, black bar. That same black bar blocked the top half of an news article alert, the bottom half of which read:

 

▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇

_AN EXPLOSIVE SENIOR CITIZEN!_

 

Marinette dropped the phone back onto the nightstand. There was something about that news article’s description that sparked a memory in her. There had been an akumatized victim… an old one. _Boomer._ The name came to her suddenly.

Before Marinette could consider this further, her stomach growled. She was starving!

Carefully, so as to not wake up Alya, Marinette inched out of bed and onto her feet. As soon as she was completely vertical, a wave of dizziness hit her hard. Marinette wobbled and had to grab the edge of the night stand to stabilize herself.

It was a challenge, but she managed to navigate herself into the kitchen and to the fridge. The light from inside of the fridge was blinding, but Marinette’s hunger drove her to scavenge through the stores of food within it anyways.

“Mari!” It wasn’t Alya who interrupted Marinette’s hunt for nourishment - it was Tikki. The kwami zipped into Marinette’s vision, looking worried. “You shouldn’t be standing up right now! You are still healing.”

Marinette brushed off Tikki’s concerns and asked, “Why am I _healing_? Tikki, what happened?”

The kwami motherly gaze softened. “You have a concussion. At the end of your fight with the Boomer, there was a big explosion. You ended up landing on the sidewalk.”

“You scraped your face so badly that you looked like Two Face from Batman.” Alya commented as she stepped into the kitchen.

Marinette froze, her eyes darting between Alya to Tikki. She expected Tikki to fly away and hide, but she didn’t. Instead, the Tikki floated forward and gave Marinette’s nose a little pat. “It’s okay Marinette, I had to make myself known. I had to convince her not take you to the hospital.”

That only confused Marinette further. “You wanted to take me to the hospital? Wait, Alya, how did I end up with you - _agh_!” A wave of nausea hit Marinette and she stumbled back against the counter. A second wave followed shortly and she doubled over, retching. Thankfully, her stomach was empty.

Alya helped her stand back up. “No offense girl, but I don’t think you’re in the state for a game of twenty questions.”

Marinette reluctantly agreed and let Alya help her back to the bed. She passed out almost the moment her head hit the pillow.

 

\- **x** -

 

All in all, she slept for almost forty eight hours straight. She woke for only brief stretches of time, just enough to pee, snack a little, and take some advil. Alya stayed the whole time, spending her free time working her blog and texting Nino when Marinette was sleeping.

On Sunday morning, Marinette woke up feeling exponentially better. By this point, her memory had returned. She remembered the Boomer, the explosions, Chat grabbing her. She learned, as she bombarded Alya and Tikki with questions, that Chat had soon after called Alya, asking her to come pick up Marinette.

“Don’t worry,” Tikki had told her quickly, “He wasn’t badly hurt. He was just very exhausted and his suit was out of energy.”

Marinette also learned that Tikki had been staunchly against the hospital due a lack of security. _Too many hands_ , as Tikki had explained. It would be too easy for someone, a nurse, a visitor, a doctor, whatever, to grab her miraculous and walk off.

Luckily, Marinette was healing fast due to her miraculous powers. Her face no longer looked like _raw meat_ (as Alya poetically put it) and her brain was feeling almost normal.

Sunday evening, the two girls ordered a pizza and picked out a cheesy, romantic movie to watch.

As they curled up on the couch, Marinette told Alya with all her heart, “Thank you, Alya, for everything.”

Alya smiled big and stated rather matter-a-factually, “I’ll always be here for you, Marinette. I’m your best friend.”

\- **x** -

Monday was upon them. Alya’s suspension was finally up and, while her parents had been okay with her spending the last few days helping Marinette, they did not want her voluntarily missing any school days. Meanwhile, Marinette was excited to go to school; she hadn’t seen Adrien (oh, and, you know, everyone else) since school on Thursday.

Alya had been unsure about Marinette attending school at first, but Tikki had assured her it was fine. “Concussions heal very quickly for a miraculous holder.” She had explained cheerfully.

“If you’re sure,” Alya had sighed, relenting.

- **x** -

Marinette was wearing the hoodie.

She had mindlessly grabbed it out of her closet that morning and had almost put it back once she realized what she was holding. However, then she remembered Chat grabbing her, the panic on his face as he propelled them both away from the explosions. She was pretty sure he had saved her life.

In fact, the more she thought about it, the worse she felt about the whole thing. Her dumb mistake could have killed both of them. If he hadn’t acted… she shuddered to think what would have happened to her, to Ladybug.

All things considered, it hardly seemed criminal to stroke his ego a bit by wearing the hoodie. It was the least she could do.

Alya arrived to the classroom a few minutes after Marinette. She had needed to run home, change, and grab her school work. When she’d settled down in her seat, Alya started telling Marinette about some flirty text messages she had gotten from Nino. Marinette listened and did her best to swallow her jealousy.

Adrien never sent her flirty text messages.

Well, then again, he could have sent her some over the last few days. Marinette’s phone was still busted. She was planning on getting a new one later in the day. Although it was going to kill her (morally speaking) she was going to charge it on Adrien’s credit card.

Speaking of Adrien, he arrived not long after Alya. Marinette greeted him shyly.

Before he sat down, Adrien asked Marinette how she was feeling. Unfortunately, she found herself babbling ( _oh great so perfect haha yes I am fine yes thank you for asking haha um_ ) in response. It was as the words were spilling out of her mouth that a part of Marinette registered that Alya was looking at Adrien curiously, brows furrowed in thought. However, class started before Marinette could inquire about it.

All the chaos from the week before faded into the background. Sitting in class, listening to her teacher talk about Shakespeare’s impact on the English language, Marinette could almost believe that she was just a normal teenage girl.

\- **x** -

They were working on a math worksheet, talking quietly amongst themselves, when Alya noticed.

“Oh, no freaking way,” she said as she, out of the blue, grabbed Marinette’s hand and flipped it over. Marinette was caught red-handed (or, green-pawed really).

“It’s not, uh,” Marinette began to say as Alya’s scanned the jacket greedily. Before Marinette could continue, Alya grabbed at the hood and yanked it over her head...

… revealing the ears on the hood.

Alya began screeching with laughter, somehow managing to cough out, “It’s… a… _Chat Noir_ … hoodie!” Marinette froze, a wave of embarrassment crashing down on her. She knew her cheeks were probably bright red.

To make it worse, Adrien and Nino began to snicker too. At least those two had the decency to cover their mouths as they laughed at her. Alya was laughing so wildly that their teacher yelled at her, telling her she was disrupting the whole class.

As Alya swallowed her laughter back, Marinette sucked up her courage and crossed her arms bravely. “Laugh if you want to,” she snapped as defiantly as she could at her friend, “but I think it’s cute!” She had made the decision to wear the hoodie, and _dammit_ , she was going to stand by that decision.

“It’s absolutely adorable.” Adrien spoke up. The sincerity of this comment both caught Marinette off guard and caught her attention. She turned to face him and nearly fell out of her chair.

Adrien’s cheeks were pink and his expression dreamy. Completely unabashed, he met her gaze and held it for what felt like forever.

\- **x** -

For lunch, the four friends decided to go to the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Although Marinette had called her mother using Alya’s phone on Saturday to let her mother know that _she was absolutely fine_ , her parents got emotional the moment the group stepped into the bakery. Marinette found herself swept into a big bear hug by both her parents.

She had to reassure them about six more times that there was nothing to worry about, that she’d only busted her phone and not herself (a lie which she told her parents for their own mental wellbeing).

Once they were seated and chowing down on delicious pastries, the teasing begun anew. “So, does Chat know you own that hoodie?” Nino asked casually.

Alya snickered. “Oh, he so already knows,” she said.

Marinette flushed and smacked her hands onto her cheeks. Sure, it was probably inevitable that Chat would  eventually discover the silly hoodie, but did that have be right away? “What!? Why do you think that?”

“Hun,” Alya replied matter-of-factly, “you are all over instagram right now!”

Oh great. She was trending. Marinette groaned.

“Want to see?” Asked Alya cheerfully, ignoring Marinette’s discomfort.

Marinette replied with a resounding _no_ at the same that Nino chirped, “Oh, show me!”

As Alya navigated the depths of instagram with Nino cooing comments like _oh look there I am in the background_ , Marinette yanked her cat-eared hood up over her head and hid her face against the table.

“If it’s any consolation,” Adrien whispered to her, his voice so close that it sent shivers down Marinette’s spine, “I’m sure you’ve made Chat pretty happy.”

Marinette risked peaking at Adrien. One arm was propped on the table, supporting his frame so he could lean forward and covertly whisper to her. He was so close. _Don’t think about it_ , she chastised herself, _stay normal_. It was much easier thought than done.

“I, um.” Her brain was malfunctioning, refusing to cooperate with Adrien _right there._ Marinette forced herself to focus, forced herself to stay calm.

It was hard to do when looking at him, so Marinette reburied her face in her arms. That helped a lot. She felt more normal with the soft fabric of her hoodie snuggled up against her face. Sighing deeply, Marinette managed a proper reply to Adrien, “I’ll pr-probably never hear the end of it from him.”

Chuckling, Adrien replied, “Yeah, probably not.”

“Marinette,” Nino spoke up, sounding curious, “if you think that, then why’d you wear it?”

Sitting up, Marinette let out a deep breath. It wasn’t a bad question. She clasped her hands in her lap and stared down at them. “Chat saved my life,” she told her friends honestly.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Alya asked sarcastically, a playful grin on her face.

She knew Alya was joking around, but that didn’t stop Marinette from responding seriously. “Alya, you are wonderful.” She met her friend’s gaze and continued sincerely, “I love you so much for staying with me, for taking care of me. I’m even grateful to your parents for being okay with it.”

A corner of Alya’s mouth quirked up in a kind, amused smile. “Yea, my parents are pretty cool.”

“But, seriously.” Gulping, Marinette explained, “Chat… saved me. I… I _fucked_ up.” It wasn’t often that Marinette dropped big cuss words like that. Her friends were silent, their stares owlish.

It was hard to keep her voice from shaking too badly. The more Marinette thought about her mistake, the worse she felt.

“There were these ticking bombs everywhere and I should have jumped back. I could have still done my reset charm afterward. Only, it happened so quickly I didn’t think like that.” She was wringing her hands underneath the table. These words weren’t easy to say. “I don’t know, I think I thought I could outrace the bombs. I underestimated…”

 _.._ how long it took to activate her reset charm and have it swirl down, changing the world around her _._ Only, Marinette couldn’t get those words out. She was choking up, thinking about how her mistake had put her _and_ Chat (since he had put himself in harm’s way to grab her) at death’s door.

She couldn’t afford mistakes. They weren’t a royalty superheros were allowed.

A hand reached out, squeezing her shoulder. All the amusement had dropped off Alya’s face and she looked quite somber as she told Marinette, “It was just a little, well, _lapse_ in judgement, Marinette.”

Anger flashed through Marinette and she brushed off Alya’s hand. “That _lapse_ nearly got me killed. Worse, it nearly got Chat killed.” It sickened her that he could have gotten hurt (and perhaps did, for all she knew) saving her from herself.

The others seemed unsure of what to say. Not that Marinette was paying much attention to them any more; she was sinking further and further into her own dark thoughts. She hugged her arms close to herself.

In the far corner of the bakery, paying no attention to the teenagers, Marinette’s parents were busy mixing some new dough. Marinette watched them forlornly before admitting, “Maybe my parents are right…. maybe I should pass on my miraculous to someone else.”

The table jolted and rocked as Adrien half jumped out of his seat, slamming his hands on the table’s top. “ _No_.” He didn’t yell it, but he spoke so fiercely that Marinette, as well as Alya and Nino, shrunk backwards in their seats. It was a surprising amount of emotion rather spontaneously.

Adrien seemed to realize he overreacted to some degree. He cleared his throat and eased himself back into the chair, his cheeks pink. Marinette was utterly baffled. Why did Adrien care so strongly?

She didn’t have to ask. He explained, his own voice wavering like hers had been, “Marinette, mistakes don’t define who you are. For the last three years, you’ve been the best superhero that Paris could ever hope for. You’re… you’re smart, kind, patient, and, not to mention, a brilliant combatant. You are a fantastic Ladybug.”

Her jaw was hanging loosely. Adrien’s words were genuine and passionate. Her brain really wasn’t sure what to do with this information.

Taking a deep breath, Adrien added one more final comment, “Marinette, fate chose _you_ for a reason.”

It felt like her heart might burst. Adrien believed in her. Truly, really, believed in her. Probably way more than she believed in herself.

That’s when the waterworks started. Like a old faucet being cranked on, Marinette let out a high pitched whimper before the first tears squeaked out of her eyes. As tears began to flood out of her, she threw herself out of her chair and into Adrien, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face into his shoulder. Her voice was obscured by emotion and fabric, “T-t-t-thank-nk y-you, A-Adrien!” She blubbered.

“U-um, you’re welcome?” He responded, a note of panic sneaking into his voice. His hands wrapped partially around her, rubbing her back like one might soothe an upset toddler.

Oh no, she was making a scene. Marinette drew herself away from Adrien, so embarrassed that she refused to meet his sympathetic green gaze as she did so. Easing herself back into her seat, she whipped her tears on her sleeves. “I-I’m s-sorry.” She gurgled, her tears only coming harder now. “T-that, um, t-that was the ni-nicest th-thing…” Speaking was difficult through her happy, ugly crying.

“Oooh-kay,” Alya clapped her hands together as she stood up, “Marinette, why don’t you and I take a walk outside? Get some fresh air?”

Her friend knew when to save her. Marinette bobbed her head up and down and got to her unsteadily feet. Taking her hand (and not her sleeve, which was covered with tears and probably a bit of snot), Alya led Marinette outside and away from the boys so she she could sob in peace.

After they got outside, Alya offered a handful of bakery napkins to Marinette, who took them thankfully. Blowing her nose hard, Marinette finally found her voice again, “A-Adrien thinks I’m a g-good su-superhero.”

Smiling motherly, Alya agreed simply, “Yep.”

Marinette blew her nose again, crumbling the napkins in her shaking hands. “B-but he pr-probably thinks,” she sniffed, “t-thinks I’m in l-love with Chat.”

Alya rolled her eyes. “You already know my opinion on you and Chat.”

Marinette let out a wet giggle. Yes, she was very aware of Alya’s desire for future _catbug_ babies. A few weeks prior, when the new Incredibles movie had made its way over to Paris, Alya hadn’t shut up about _how cool a superhero family would be_ . Only, at the time, Marinette had been secretly rolling her eyes at her friend’s  comments and thinking to herself, _no way, never_.

Now, she was thinking about the last two weeks and everything that had happened. “Alya…” Whispering, Marinette confessed, “... I might be.” There, she said it. It was out in the open. From the day that Chat had stolen a kiss, to his visits, to how he protected her no matter what, even from herself. “I think I might love Chat.” Her whisper was surprisingly steady.

“Whoa.” Alya responded, her eyebrows rising up.

The sobs came back anew.  “B-but I al-also l-love Adr-drien!” Softly howled Marinette as she smacked her palms against her face. A long moan escaped her and she whimpered, “My life sucks.”

There was something wrong with Alya’s face. Her cheeks were puffed out and her lips were sealed shut, as if she was holding her breath. Her eyes darted to the side, glancing into the bakery at the boys. Marinette considered this behavior with curiosity, in between blowing her nose and whipping her tears with the bakery napkins.

When Alya spoke, it was like she was carefully calculating her words, “Marinette… I have a sneaking suspicion that everything’s going to end up working out in your favor.”

As Marinette’s best friend, it was Alya’s job to reassure her, no matter what. This was something Marinette appreciated. She forced a weak smile and joked lamely to Alya, “Sure, maybe I’ll just m-marry both of them. Are two husbands legal in Paris?”

Alya burst into riotous laughter.

\- **x** -

After school, she and Alya swung by a store to buy a new phone. Alya somehow managed to talk Marinette into not purchasing the least expensive, brick-of-a-phone in the store. _It’s not my money_ was what Marinette kept saying, but Alya would rely, _it’s barely his either, it’s his father’s_.

Alya wasn’t a big fan of Gabriel Agreste. To her, putting an expensive phone on the fancy credit card was to directly charge Gabriel Agreste’s personal bank account - which she liked the idea of.

“I know you don’t like the dude either,” Alya told her as they looked at one of the newest models of phones. Marinette bit her lip and shrugged. Gabriel Agreste was Adrien’s father. It seemed… _wrong_ to dislike him. Then again, that was kind of the reason to dislike him. Alya pointed this out. “He treats Adrien like shit,” she said.

Not only that, but there was also something that always bothered Marinette when she was around him, as if the man was some sort of dark omen.

She settled for a newer, but not the best, phone. After the tech started up the phone and moved over her contacts, sim card, and everything else, Marinette could finally see her text messages from the past week.

She had six text messages from Adrien.

The first three, sent on Friday and Saturday, asked her how she was and mentioned what the news had been saying about the boomer causing a big final explosion. The last three, all sent this morning, contained memes about cats.

Her cheeks burned and she quickly navigate out of the text conversation before Alya could see them.

\- **x** -

There was steam rising from the casserole dish as Marinette removed it from the oven and placed it on the counter on top of a cloth (so it didn’t ruin the nice granite). After closing the oven, she inspected her work.

It looked good. Golden brown and crispy on top, yet gooey below.

It was almost seven o’clock. Really, Marinette was running behind. She had spinach finishing up on the stove top and she’d yet to unpack the selection of cheese she’d purchased.

She hurried about the kitchen, stirring this, pouring that, cutting this. Tikki was sitting on the counter watching her, clearly amused. “You know Marinette, I’m sure Chat won’t mind if he has to wait.”

“I don’t want him to wait, I want to be done on time.” Marinette fretted as she pried the plastic wrapping off a small block of cheese. “It’s a thank you dinner, so it’s got to be perfect.”

Tikki rolled her eyes and chuckled, but she didn’t say anything else.

Tuna casserole, spinach, cheese, fresh milk. According to a variety of websites about cats that Marinette had read, Chat should like this stuff. Well, that is, assuming he ate like a cat… which Marinette was hoping for, because she had no other clues as to what Chat Noir liked for dinner. The two superheroes didn’t often dine together.

The oven's electronic clock was dangerously approaching seven P.M. Marinette couldn't help but glance at it via the corner of her eye. As she did so, the slick block of cheese that she had just unwrapped slipped right out of her hands.

It landed with a full thwack on the floor. "Dang it," Marinette grumbled as she stooped to pick it up. Luckily, her floors weren't too dirty, and, anyways, Marinette wasn't about to let this innocuous block of cheese derail her perfect set up for dinner. While Tikki watched, clearly amused, Marinette stalked over to the sink and started washing off the cheese.

Once the cheese was thoroughly rinsed, Marinette turned… and nearly shrieked.

Chat Noir was leaning on her counter, a different, half-unwrapped block of cheese in his hand. There was already a large bite mark missing from the cheese.

Clapping a hand over her heart, Marinette complained, "Why don't you knock?"

He shrugged, swallowed, and said cheerfully, "Whoops!"

Why was she not surprised? Chat was forever Chat.

"Fine, well, but you're early," Marinette told him matter-of-factly.

His mask quirked in shape as he raised his brows. "Your voicemail said seven." He peeked over her shoulder at the oven's clock. "And it's currently 6:57."

"See?" Marinette replied, flustered, "You are three minutes early! Now you'll have to wait!"

This fact, instead of grating Chat like it was grating Marinette, made him laugh heartily. "I can deal with that."

Now Marinette had to cook with an audience. Both Tikki and Chat watched her as she busied around the kitchen, stirring the spinach, getting out plates, getting out silverware.

Somehow, Tikki and Chat ended up striking up a conversation. "So, Tikki," Chat began, "are you kind of like my kwami in that there's a particular food you prefer?"

"Cookies!" Tikki chirped, waving her arms as if that somehow demonstrated her point, "Which has worked out really well, because, you know, bakery." Chat chuckled at that.

“I’ll have to remember that,” purred Chat as Marinette began to cut the casserole.

"You must go through a lot of cheese," Tiki replied.

"Oh, tons. And, he always wants the best cheese." _He_ , Marinette realized as she half listened, must be Chat’s kwami, Plagg. She had obviously never met the kwami, but she heard about him once in awhile from Chat.

Tikki laughed hard, her face lighting up. "Oh yes, he's always been like that. Always loved the stuff."

"I often imagine his favorite day, out of his whole life, was the day cheese was invented!"

Tikki grew quieter and chuckled weakly, "Yea, I suppose so."

"Almost finished!" Marinette interrupted their conversation with her announcement as she began to dole out the food onto the plates. "And Chat, you can take some of the cheese home later for Plagg."

"You'll be his new favorite person," replied Chat, eyeing the various cheeses.

It wasn't until they had their plates and had sat on the couch that Chat, in between bites, commented, "So... curious assortment of foods, Mari."

Embarrassment burned without Marinette. She was very thankful that she had not only clicked close the website page titled _WHAT FOODS DO CATS LIKE?_ but also had deleted her browsing history. "Thank you," was all that she politely replied to him.

He stared at her, the corner of his lip twitching. "You do know I'm not really a cat, right?"

She hesitated and then huffed, "You don't have to eat it if you don't like it." Damn it, her great plan was a bust. Oh well, she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. Her own superhero identity was a ladybug and yet she didn’t go around licking aphids off plants.

"Oh no, I definitely want to eat it!" As if to emphasize his enthusiastic reply, Chat shoved another fork full of casserole into his mouth. After he swallowed, he continued, "I just think it's cute. Tuna casserole. Cheese. Although, the spinach surprises me. Why spinach?"

"It's good for cats," Marinette replied automatically, stating what she had read online.

Chat broke into a fit of giggles. "Really? Well, okay then.” A purr rumbled through his words, “I'm so glad you're concerned about my health.”

He was joking, but he wasn't wrong. Marinette had always been concerned with Chat's wellbeing. And now, after he has risked his own tail, both literally and figuratively, to save her... Marinette felt even more obligated to care. These sobering thoughts ran through her mind as Chat chowed down on the cat-themed food on his plate.

She was serious when she spoke again, "I am. I care about you, Chat." Marinette met Chat's curious green eyes as they lifted off the food and to hers. This time, she didn't blush.

Somewhere around this point, Tikki had floated out of the living room and into the bedroom, most likely figuring it was time to give the two some privacy.

"Um," Chat murmured, shriveling under her intense gaze.

"Seriously, Chat."

"Oh no, I believe you," replied Chat, still looking rather unsure as to what was happening.

"I let you down.” The confession spilled out of her, surprising both superheros alike.

"What? No, Mari, what happened with the Boomer, it was an accident -"

"It nearly got both of us killed."

"You don't know that."

"We can't survive explosions, Chat. We aren't Superman."

"Debatable. We're the closest this world gets to Superman."

"But we're not invincible!"

"Or maybe our suites are made out of kryptonite and accidentally keeping us from being invulnerable?"

Marinette stared at Chat, flabbergasted. It was an amazing trick of his to turn serious conversations into nerdy, random discussions. It was both impressive and annoying. Pinching her nose, she took a deep breath and got back to the topic at hand, "Okay, but seriously Chat. It was my fault. I'm sorry."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, well, I forgive you. Glad we got that out of the way."

He didn't understand. Feeling even more frustrated, Marinette dropped her plate onto the coffee table. "Chat!" She whined.

"What, Marinette?" He sighed and copied her, sliding his almost-finished plate next to hers. "Do you want me to be upset? Do you want me to lecture you? 'Cause I'm not going to do that. It's just... not what I do. I'm on the receiving end of too many lectures. I'm not about to start giving them out."

That response took a lot of the wind of Marinette's sails. She wasn't sure what she wanted, but pushing Chat to fill a role that he wasn't comfortable with wasn't one. Although, yes, a part of her wished he would get angry at her, would tell her _you have to be better_. Right now, she was her only judge and it was rather tiring. "I'm sorry," she whimpered quietly.

"Oh, jeez Mari," Chat stuttered, guilt bleeding into his words, "I didn't mean to snap at you. I just..." He paused, as if unsure how to phrase his next words.

She finished his sentence for him, "You care about me too."

Tilting his head, he agreed simply, "Well, yes, of course."

Three years of partnership. Three years of having each other's backs. Three years of bad puns and unabashed flirting. Three years of Chat caring about her.

And yet, she pined over her friend Adrien, who, like Alya, believed she and Chat were a match made in heaven.

Maybe they were right.

What is true love, if it wasn't someone who was willing to die for you? Maybe Mari had always been blinded by her own trifle infatuations?

Marinette shifted onto her knees and inched forward on the couch, until her knees bumped into his thigh. Confused, Chat asked her hesitantly, "Mari?" His voice was soft.

She moved fast. Reaching forward, she tugged him towards her and crashed her lips into his, just like she’d seen in any good romantic movie. However, in her haste, she ended up smacking teeth with him. "Fuck!" He shouted while she cussed in similar. They sprang apart, each grabbing at their respective faces.

The taste of iron spilled into Marinette's mouth as her lip began to bleed. Mentally, she was kicking herself. Only she could turn a kiss into a headbutt. Marinette had watched tons of beautiful, romantic kiss scenes in dramas and movies - they had all looked so simple. "Oh hell," she whined, her words a bit mushed as she sucked at her top lip carefully, "Chat, I’m sorry, so so sorry!”

Somewhere around when she was proclaiming the second sorry, Chat began to laugh. His laugh was rather infectious and Marinette, inspect of the awkwardness of it all, found herself laughing too.

"I don't want to complain," Chat managed to say in between his guffaws, "but ow. I think you broke my face."

"Good news then," Marinette replied good naturedly, "it was already broken. So no harm done."

More laughter. Eventually, Chat became somber once again. As Mari licked tentatively at her slightly sliced inner lip, Chat slid himself down the couch, removing the space between them again.

"So..." He whispered, his eyes searching her face cautiously.

Heat began to build up in Marinette. She allowed herself to lean in towards him once again, slower this time, their breaths mingling in what little space remained between them. "So..." She echoed.

She was really doing this.

“What was that about?” Chat asked her softly.

“Like I said,” Marinette whispered just like him, her cheeks reddening as she admitted again, “I care about you.”

His face lit up, his eyes crinkling under his mask. Chuckling softly, Chat reached up and traced his claws along her chin. It sent shivers down her back. "Well, in that case, why don’t we try that again?" Despite her stinging lip, Marinette couldn't help but agree.

His lips were warm and dry as they pressed into hers. They meshed well with hers. _I'm kissing Chat,_ she thought, her hands snacking there way to his shoulders.

It felt right.

She wanted more. Marinette sat up a little in order to get a better position. Chat was more than willing to tilt his mouth back, his hands gently grabbing her waist and helping stabilize her.

The kiss intensified, lips mashing together greedily.

Trembling.

Oh no, not her. Him. He was trembling under her fingers. It caused her to freeze when she realized, when she felt the shake in his shoulders. Why was his whole body basically vibrating?

He seemed to realize something was wrong and he pulled back, his green eyes peeling open. They looked a little dazed. “Mari,” he whispered, “is something wrong?”

“You’re trembling,” she whispered and was surprised at how hurt she sounded.

Marinette couldn’t blame him if he was realizing he didn’t like her like that. Perhaps only now, reality was sinking in and he was thinking, _oh no, thanks. I prefer girls with their life more in order_.

That’s not what he said, thankfully. “Err,” the boy muttered, “that’s, well, um, it’s, ah, sort of, kind of, ah, a... purr.” Chat did not sound happy to be admitting that out loud.

A dopey grin snuck onto her face. “I thought you weren’t really a cat,” Marinette accused.

“Shut up,” he replied playfully, reaching up to tug on one of her pigtails.

Like two celestial objects, each exerting their own gravities, they began to drift together again. Him, a new purr rumbling through him, and her, her dopey grin becoming even dopier. Closer, closer, they got.

Marinette’s eyes inspected the black mask and its grooves. The mask itself was flawless, just like hers. No scars, no marks, nothing to disfigure the armor. Like hers, it repaired itself. The armor which protected their identities, which protected themselves, was so much stronger than either of them. It could survive.

Ladybug and Chat Noir, the people, could die and yet, Ladybug and Chat Noir, the superheros, could not.

It was such a sobering thought that it caused a tiny dam in her brain to burst, releasing the next whisper, “I would have died on Thursday if it hadn’t been for you.”

Chat froze, a thousand emotions flashing across his face.

Meanwhile, Marinette only felt longing. She felt the need to wrap her arms around him and bury her face into his. She wanted his warmth, his reassurance. Together, they’d managed to survive so far and together they’d manage to survive longer.

Only, when Marinette leaned towards him, closing her eyes, he hissed, “Shit, Marinette.” His whole body moved and their contact was broken as Chat slid to the far end of the couch.

He looked like a wounded animal, angry and sad at the same time. “Chat…?” Marinette was utterly confused, not sure as to what provoked this response.

Shaking his head, Chat grumbled, “Is that…” He swallowed and dropped his head into his hands, fingers digging into his hair, “... is that why you kissed me? Because I saved you? Because you, I don’t know, feel like you owe me?”

Her mouth felt dry. It was an unwarranted accusation! … and yet, maybe it wasn’t.

Because, honestly, Marinette wasn’t sure of the answer to his questions. Was it something deeper than pure gratitude and terror over what might have happened? Like the dinner she had painstakingly prepared, was she throwing herself onto him as a way to _repay_ him? Was her own brain capable of such gymnastics?

Did she really, truly feel something romantically for Chat?

Or, was she still, really, truly, in love with Adrien?

Instead of answering, she started to cry.

Ugh, she really was a mess. “I’m sorry, I don’t know.”

Chat’s body went lose, like a puppet when the puppeteer lets the strings drop. Groaning, Chat slipped right off the couch, landing in an overly dramatic puddle on the floor, one leg still half on the couch. “Marinette, you’re killing me.”

“In multiple ways.” That tongue-in-cheek comment popped out so automatically from her. In fact, it took her by surprise, her tears halting as she began to giggle weakly.

Chat sighed deeply. “You’re a dangerous woman.”

They stayed like that for a good minute, the only sounds coming from the chirps of crickets outside. Chat stared at the ceiling while Marinette stared out the balcony, both wrapped up in their own thoughts.

It was Chat who broke the silence, “Marinette,” she hummed in acknowledgement, “you’ve got a lot on your mind. There’s probably things you still need to, um, figure out.” By _things_ he probably meant like, how to live her life now that it was an utter mess. “Let’s just… not aim to complicate things right now.”

Wasn’t that the truth. Marinette felt like a kid buried in a ball pit, with no sense of which way is up.

“Okay,” she agreed reluctantly.

But, how would she manage to climb herself out of her mental ball pit? The more she swam, the deeper she went.

She’d known Chat for three years; surely she should know him well enough to decide whether she liked him or if she liked Adrien. Three years! That was a statistically large chunk of her current life span. Her and Chat had been masked partners for all that time. Yes, they were, in some ways, strangers, but, in other ways, they were as tight as Batman and Robin.

Strangers.

That word caused a tightness in Marinette’s chest.

Three years of partnership and she couldn’t put a true face and a name to those green eyes. For all she knew, he could be someone close to her, like Nino or Nathaniel. Okay, well, both of those two had been akumatized, but it practically everyone had been at some point. At this point, Marinette had no good leads as to who Chat really was. She had no idea who he was.

The ultimate question embedded itself into Marinette’s brain.

As Chat picked himself up off the floor, saying something about _let’s just watch some TV_ , she was mulling it over.

As Chat grabbed the remote and opened up Netflix, she was waffling back and forth about it.

As Chat picked some silly fashion show commenting _oh this looks good_ (it didn’t, it was one of those over-dramatic, fake fashion shows), she had made up her mind.

The host of the show was explaining the rules over the opening music when Marinette looked at Chat and told him, “Chat, I want to know who you are. I’m ready to know. Please tell me your identity.”

 

- **x** - **x** \- **x** -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my. I wonder who Chat Noir really is? Maybe he's Clark Kent. That guy's rather suspicious.
> 
> Or, maybe he's that Peter Parker. He's pretty shady too.
> 
> Side note, expect some big developments next chapter. ;)


	4. Transatlantic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If only Marinette saw the superhero gig like Adrien did; life and death situations were simply a part of what they did. It wasn’t anything special what he’d done, nor was her mistake anything special. There was no reason to feel bad or grateful.
> 
> Paris' favorite superheroes have a lot to sort through, emotionally.

 

-  **x**   **\- x** \- **x** -

 

The poker chips were flashing faster and faster.

Ladybug was standing in the middle of them, a look of determination on her face. As if she was completely unaware of the doom surrounding her, she stayed right where she was and threw the banana pudding up into the air. Then, she began to shout her catchphrase.

Meanwhile, his instincts were telling him to jump away. Actually, they told him to jump away a full three seconds ago, when he registered the bombs around him. Only, instead, he had glanced at Ladybug, gasping her real name to alert her to the danger. He had waited for her to move, for her to jump away. 

She hadn’t.

The chips would likely go off well before her reset charm spiraled down from the heavens to revert the world to its previous state.

Curse words spilled out of Adrien as he jumped forward, roughly scooped up Marinette, and sprang as hard as he could away from the chips.

He didn’t make it very far before the chips went off.

It was loud at first, a catastrophic _ boom  _ as fifty or so of those stupid chips went off together. Then, that terrible booming noise disappeared entirely, replaced by a simple ringing that filled Adrien’s head as the force swept past him, shoving them forward while still in mid air. The explosive force carried them farther than his jump would have alone. 

Adrien lost his grip on Marinette.

She slipped right out of his paws but, in all honesty, he barely registered it. His mind went blank as the ringing, the heat, and the pressure carried him like a leaf in the wind. 

Then he hit the ground.

He was no stranger to pain but that didn’t make it any less pleasant as he slammed into the earth, rolling across dirt and grass. 

The world slowed to a stop, finally.

The ringing was still filling his ears. Adrien sat up slowly, huffing deeply. The air tasted like smoke and bananas.   _ Ew. _

He reached up to tenderly touch his head. Well, he meant to reach up and touch his head, but when he moved his right arm, a splitting pain raced up his arm and stayed there. “Fuck!” He shouted, rocking forward and pulling his knees to his chest. 

Adrien turned to look at right arm and nearly vomited. His shoulder was all sorts of messed up, his upper arm bone knocked almost a two full inches forward. It was totally dislocated.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbled as he tried his best not to freak out. It hurt terribly, but it wasn’t a death sentence. Far from it. In fact, dislocation was much easier in the long run than a broken bone. Once he managed to shove it back in place, he wouldn’t have to play the hide-the-injury game, like he would have to for a broken bone.

Although, getting the bone back into the right place wasn’t exactly easy.

It was as Adrien was tentatively prodding at his shoulder, hissing in pain, that he remembered Marinette. “Mari!” He gasped. He jumped to his feed and found himself wobbly. Something about the blast had completely thrown off his balance. Still, that didn’t stop him from twisting around wildly, scanning the moonlit park.

There she was, laying a inch past a silvery sidewalk that cut through the grass.

There was a dark stain stretching across the sidewalk, ending at the grass near Marinette. It took several moments for Adrien to process what it was as he stumbled towards her.

Blood.

It was blood.

More cuss words tumbled out of him, frantic, terrified. He dropped to his knees beside his partner and gently rolled her onto her back. In the back of his mind, an unnecessary part of his brain considered that if this was anyone else, it would be extremely unwise to move them, due to spinal injuries. But, Marinette was different. If she was breathing, her suit could repair her (or at least, that’s what his kwami had once basically told him).

What he saw wasn’t pretty. The left side of her face was more blood than anything else. Pink muscle, yellow fat, and white bone peaked out from behind the blood. 

Adrien crawled a foot away from her before his stomach took over and he up-chucked his dinner.

“Focus,” now he was talking aloud, like a crazy person, “it’s okay, she’s okay, she’s alive.” Was she? He hadn’t checked. Fuck, he wasn’t functioning well. He was letting his own emotions impede with what he needed to do.

“I need to save Marinette,” he whispered as he crawled back over to Marinette, “save Mari. Save Mari.”

She was still breathing. _ Oh thank god, _ he thought, exhaling. It was awful hard to save someone who was dead. In between his own horror and his own pain, he did notice that she had transformed back to being Marinette. Her red suit was gone, replaced by a pair of pajamas.

“Plan,” Adrien mumbled suddenly, “I need a plan.”

Plans were good. Plans had a start, a middle, and an ending. They got you where you needed to go. When it doubt, you could always refer to the plan. The question is, what would be the ending of this plan? What did he did need to do? 

“Hospital,” said Adrien, “I need to take her to a hospital.”

He was looking at Marinette, considering the best way to pick her up, when a little voice squeaked, “No, Chat! Not a hospital!” 

Normally, Tikki would never scare Chat. However, he was still rather on edge, thanks to the whole explosion thing. Yelping, he scrambled a foot away from the spotted kwami. 

“Jeez!” He yelped, clapping a hand over his heart, “Tikki, you scared the shit out of me.”

Tikki completely ignored his comment. She zoomed closer to him, looking determined as she told him, “You can’t take her to the hospital. It’s too dangerous.”’

“Dangerous?” He parroted, “It’s a hospital, Tikki. It’s the opposite of dangerous. Besides, her identity is already out.”

“No, it’s not about her identity,” replied Tikki, “it’s about how easy it would be for someone to steal her miraculous. If she’s out cold in a place as crowded as a hospital…” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t need to finish. Adrien understood, even if he didn’t quite like it.

Seriously, Marinette’s beautiful face looked like someone had drove a lawn mower over it. Her pajamas were so stained with blood that they were a complete loss. 

“What then?” Adrien implored, his voice cracking with concern. 

“Take her home,” Tikki stated, “let the miraculous heal her.”

It sure sounded simple and probably would have been, if his arm wasn’t full of freaking pain. 

It took several attempts before Chat found a way to leverage Marinette up and lean her onto his good shoulder. When the sound of police sirens, first only whispers in the distance, grew, he sped up this painful process, snaking his good arm underneath her rump. In a normal situation, improper thoughts driven by teenage hormones might have snuck into his mind. However, his focus was utterly consumed by his efforts to keep Marinette propped against him without inflicting too much agony on himself.

Tikki didn’t comment on the constant stream of uncouth curses that he mumbled. She just floated next to him, wringing her tiny hands nervously.

Once he had a good enough grip on Marinette, Adrien began to move. The sounds of the sirens seemed to chase him as he stumbled through the park, every step sending sparks of pain shooting across his body. 

At some point, he started to jump. In the days to come, he wound find himself unsure of what exactly happened next. He would know that he sprang across rooftops with Marinette flopped against his chest like heavy sack of flour. He would know that they had gotten pretty far before his own dizziness got bad. He would also remember landing in an alleyway hard, a new pain popping into his ankles. He would remember, as a result, stumbling and slamming his bad shoulder into an alleyway.

He wouldn’t remember passing out. He would remember waking up, though, with the cement floor of the alley cold against his cheek.

That’s when he gave up. Well, not entirely. Not like, _ oh well I guess we’ll just lay here forever _ kind of give up. But he did need to change tactics. “Claws in,” he whimpered from where he laid sprawled in the alley. As green light whirled around him, he couldn’t help but watch Marinette, who was laying a foot from him, her chest rising and falling with every life sustaining breath. 

“Dammit Adrien,” huffed Plagg, once he had reappeared, “you’ve really done a number on yourself.”

“Trust me, I know,” Adrien replied as he reached down and fumbled in his pocket. Then, without explaining to either Plagg or Tikki - who had floated over to Plagg’s side - he pulled out his phone and begin to scroll through the contacts.

“Adrien…” whispered Tikki, her black eyes wide.

“What are you doing?” Plagg asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Calling help,” croaked Adrien as he found the right contact and hit dial.

“Not the hospital,” repeated Tikki, a new, hard edge to her voice.

“No,” agreed Adrien, “not the hospital. Alya.” 

 

\-  **x** -

 

That night, he had nothing but nightmares. One particular nightmare stood out. He was sitting in the back of the limo and Nathalie was sitting in her usual seat at the other end. The weird thing about this dream was that it was almost a complete repeat of the conversation he’d had with her nearly a week ago. 

They’d been sitting the limo, with Gorilla driving, on the way to school. Adrien had decided to risk asking Nathalie a few questions about tenant laws, since he was planning on letting Marinette use his apartment.

He’d had his own apartment for years; an apartment loaded with a huge television, a memory foam queen sized bed, comfy couch, etc. He rarely stayed in it; honestly, it was a just-in-case kind of thing. The older he got, the more Adrien realized that his father was rather unpredictable with his anger. The apartment was his escape, if he should ever need it.

Only, he had decided to let be Marinette’s escape. She needed it more.

Anyways, Adrien had asked Nathalie if he needed to inform the apartment complex if someone new was living in the apartment ( _ technically _ , she had replied), if he could change the locks to a key the apartment complex didn’t have ( _ not legally _ , she had replied), and a few other miscellaneous questions. 

They had only been a minute or so from the school when she had directly asked him, “Do you plan on lending your apartment to Marinette?” 

He wasn’t surprised she had guessed it. First of all, Nathalie knew about the apartment; she had been the one to help him set up the apartment without his father knowing, all those years ago. Gabriel Agreste would never had agreed to such a waste of money. If Nathalie hadn’t of been willing to help Adrien set up a separate, personal bank account, contact the apartment complex, and complete a myriad of other tasks, he probably wouldn’t have gotten his apartment. 

Secondly, Nathalie saw him all the time hanging out with Marinette, Alya, and Nino. And, only one of those three was now dealing with having their superhero identity outed. It wasn’t a far leap of logic.

“Yes,” Adrien had replied honestly to Nathalie. There was no point in lying to her. She was one of the few human beings that Adrien truly trusted. He could sense there was good in her. He was sure of it.

It was at this moment that his nightmare would differentiate from what really happened. In reality, Nathalie had asked him about what Marinette’s parents would think about their teenage daughter moving out. Her question was simple, her voice flat.

In the nightmare, she growled this question.

In reality, he had admitted to her that he was concerned about that. _ Can her parents force her to move back home? _

_ Yes _ , real Nathalie had said simply. Nightmare Nathalie only crackled wildly.

Real Nathalie had told him that Marinette might need to consider emancipation. Nightmare Nathalie said the same thing, only her eyes started to glow red. 

Real Nathalie had explained to Adrien a bit about what that meant, about the legal process. Nightmare Nathalie said the same thing, only the limo began to shake, harder and harder, with every word she said.

Real Nathalie had stated simply that she could help, if necessary. Nightmare Nathalie didn’t say this; she launched herself out of her seat, her skin darkening to maroon as she flew across the limo that was suddenly ten times as wide. Yellow fangs slid out of her mouth and she reached at Adrien, shrieking.

That’s when Adrien woke up in a cold sweat. He sat up so quickly, gasping so loud, that he woke Nino.

“Wha- what, what happened, is something wrong?” Nino asked, blinking sleep out of his eyes as he sat up too.

“No… I just had a nightmare,” replied Adrien solemnly, “sorry for waking you.”

Nino watched him for a long moment, before replying, “it’s fine dude, don’t worry about it.” There was something new in the way that Nino looked at Adrien, something cautious. Like he wasn’t sure what to make of the guy who’d been his best friend for the last three years.

The electronic clock in the corner of Nino’s room said 6:44 AM in glowing, red letters.  _ Shit _ , thought Adrien. If he didn’t get home soon, it was likely that his father would discover him missing. The last thing that Adrien wanted was to have to explain (well, lie) to his father why he hadn’t spent the night at home.

Ladybug. The explosion. Alya. Adrien didn’t plan on sharing any of that with his father. 

In fact, Adrien hadn’t even shared it with Nino. Rather, he’d just showed up at Nino’s at midnight covered in ash, dirt, and blood, and sporting a dislocated shoulder.

Oh, Nino had had thousand questions. Adrien had refused to answer them, though. 

Despite the fact that Adrien wouldn’t explain, Nino still agreed to help Adrien with his shoulder. The two boys had hunkered down together on the floor and Adrien had shoved a washcloth in his mouth, biting down on it. Then, Nino pushed on his arm. It hurt. It really, really fucking hurt… and then it didn’t as much. Once the bone snapped back in place, a lot of the nasty stabbing pain died down. 

The power of the miraculous finally had the chance to go to work and start fixing the injury. Which is exactly what it did. Over the course of the night, as Adrien slept in a swaddle of blankets on Nino’s floor, his shoulder had been healing.

Now, at 6:44 AM, his shoulder felt almost as good as new.

“I’ve got to get going,” Adrien told Nino.

“If you’re sure,” Nino replied, his voice hesitant.

As Adrien quickly folded up the blankets he’d slept with, he tried to ignore the way that Nino was looking at him.

Nino was looking at Adrien like… well, like he  _ knew _ .

 

\-  **x** -

 

Getting back into his room was easy. Plagg was grumbly, but he relented to transforming for a minute, just long enough for Adrien to vault himself up to his window and in. 

His room was exactly how he left it: unwelcomingly large and clinically clean. 

“I think we’re in the clear,” Adrien whispered to Plagg after they’d de-transformed.

“Whatever. A block of cheese is calling my name,” was the unenthusiastic reply the kwami gave before floating away. Plagg was upset. But, he usually was whenever Adrien put himself at risk. Plagg, despite his pessimistic I-don’t-care front, was actually a big softie. In a parental sort of way, Plagg was protective of Adrien.

Although they never talked about it, there was a strong bond between the two of them. A bond not created by the miraculous, but by three years of partnership.

A sharp rap on the door snagged Adrien’s attention.

Nathalie, in her ever disinterested tone, spoke from the hallway, “Adrien, your father wishes to speak with you.”

“Oh shit,” Adrien whispered to no one in particular.

 

\-  **x** -

 

Gabriel Agreste was furious.

He was tapping incessantly on his desk as Adrien walked into his father’s office. When Adrien was a few feet away from the desk, his father raised a hand.  _ Stop there _ , it said.

Adrien always wished that his interactions with his father weren’t so methodical. But, at this point, nothing was going to change. Eighteen years of being a single parent hadn’t managed to melt Gabriel’s icy heart. Oh well.

“Where were you last night?”

Shit. Should he go for flat out denial, or a safer half-lie? Admit he was with Nino, or deny he was never out of his room? No, trying to play innocent would be a bad idea. Gabriel wouldn’t accuse him like this if he hadn’t been certain of Adrien’s missing presence. 

Adrien didn’t need to piss off his father any further.

“At Nino’s,” he admitted, his half-lie at least somewhat honest. He had been at Nino’s, after all, for most of the night.

“At Nino’s,” repeated his father in a mocking tone. Adrien flinched. He hated being reminded that his father did not appreciate his  _ associations with commoners _ . Friends were unnecessary baggage, in Gabriel Agreste’s opinion.

“Yes,” Adrien replied from behind gritted teeth.

“And, pray tell, why did you feel like you had the right to have a sleepover elsewhere without first asking permission?” 

Adrien could only shrug.

A heavy silence settled over the room, with the exception of Gabriel’s fingers bouncing on the surface of the desk. 

“Don’t lie to me.” Gabriel’s next words came out as a growl. It took every ounce of self control that Adrien possessed to not react. Lie. Lie about  _ what _ ? Where he was? Or, maybe, more like what he was doing? Panic alarms began to sound in Adrien’s head. Did his father know?

“I-I, ah, don’t know what you’re talking about,” blubbered Adrien rather quickly. Shit, he was about as smooth as sandpaper. 

That’s when Gabriel stood up, so quickly that his rolly chair flew out behind him. “That girl,” growled Gabriel, his brows burrowing and his face morphing into one of pure rage, “you went to check on her once you’d heard about the explosions. Didn’t you?”

“Uuhh… what?” Surprised, Adrien’s reaction was completely honest. “You mean Marinette?” Adrien clarified, his brain trying to sort out what his father was accusing him of.

“Yes, of course Marinette,” spat Gabriel, “Nathalie has informed me that you have a soft spot for our resident  _ superhero _ .” There was something about the way that Gabriel said superhero that Adrien didn’t like. It didn’t sound appreciative, that was for certain.

“She’s… she’s my friend,” Adrien admitted carefully, “but I didn’t sneak out to see her last night.” Whoops, complete and utter lie, but oh well.

If Gabriel’s face contorted any more, his eyebrows might have fused permanently into his nose. It was clear that Gabriel didn’t believe Adrien’s words at all. “Liar,” snarled Gabriel, more emotion in his voice than Adrien had heard in years, “I don’t want you hanging around her.”

Now that was completely unreasonable. “Father, she is one of my best friends!” Adrien protested immediately.

“I don’t care!” His father snapped back, “She is dangerous. A menace. I won’t have you following her like a lovesick puppy and getting physically injured in the process.” 

If only his father knew how close Adrien had been to death just that previous night. He sure as shit didn’t say that aloud though. Instead, Adrien spoke slowly and defiantly, “Father, Marinette is one of my best friends. I will  _ not  _ abandon her.”

Gabriel scoffed loudly, finally tearing his furiouss gaze off Adrien as he twisted around to face the golden painting on the wall of his office. Adrien’s mother, Emily. “You’re just a stupid child.” The sharp insult hurt and, embarrassingly, tears threatened the corners of Adrien’s eyes. 

_ You’re just a stupid man _ , he thought furiously, _ who isn’t capable of being a decent father _ . 

Of course, he did not say that out loud.

When Gabriel spoke again, he was calmer. Perhaps it was the painting of Emily, softening the bastard’s heart briefly. “Go to your room. You’re grounded for the weekend."

Odd. Normally, Gabriel would at least threaten taking away the privilege of public schooling. Adrien had long ago lost count of how many times his father had threatened to switch him back to home schooling. That being said, Adrien was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He turned and stormed out of the office as quickly as he could.

He was still fighting back the tears when he reached his room.

Once his heavy, wooden door swung shut behind him, Adrien lost his composure, shriveling into a little mess against the wall. Plagg flew over to him, telling him reassuring things and offering cheese, but it didn’t help much. It never helped much. 

His father’s cruelty was simply a reality that Adrien had to live with.

 

\-  **x** -

 

Friday and Saturday were miserable. It was boring, to be cooped up in his room. Not only that, Marinette wasn’t responding to any of his texts. He hadn’t sent many - just a few asking how she was feeling - but she didn’t reply. 

His mind was running wild. What if she was really badly hurt? Her injuries had looked awful. Yes, Tikki had told him that she’d be fine, that it was mainly just a concussion. But what if Tikki had been wrong? What if Marinette wasn’t okay? What if she was barely clinging to life, fighting death, circling the drain? Plagg, who was basically the king of darkness, was getting tired of Adrien’s doom and gloom.

“See, what did I tell you?” Plagg had huffed at Adrien, when the texts from Alya had come through late on Saturday. Alya texted both him and Nino, telling them that Marinette was a-okay, but her phone was utterly destroyed. That’s why she hadn’t responded to them.

Not because she was dead.

_ Phew. _

So, at least on Sunday, Adrien didn’t spend his time worrying about Marinette. Rather, he played video games, watched TV, and wasted time. He couldn’t text Marinette any more without coming off as needy, and texting Nino seemed like a bad idea at the moment. And, he definitely couldn’t go moonlight for a bit as Chat. Every thirty minutes, like clockwork, Nathalie would knock on his door and check on him.

She even insisted that he open the door, as if he might have rigged some device to respond,  _ yes, I’m here _ , when she knocked.

It was during one the first of these check-ins on Friday, when Adrien was still furious about his father, that Nathalie hesitated in the doorway. In a quiet voice, she reminded him that his father had high expectations for him, which was why he asked for impeccable behavior.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be perfect enough for him,” Adrien replied darkly, his voice hoarse from crying.

Several emotions had passed across Nathalie’s usually somber face. However, they washed away quickly enough. She sighed deeply and said, “I think your father has…. a lot on his mind. It is hard for him to show you the appreciation he feels.”

Adrien had known Nathalie long enough to know what she was bullshitting. “Sure, whatever,” he told her.

She continued to stand there, awkwardly eyeing the door frame, avoiding making eye contact with Adrien. Then, after several moments, she said, “You are a good kid, Adrien. Your mother would be proud of you.”

Nathalie turned and trotted quickly away, her heels clicking against the expensive tile. Adrien watched her go, shocked.

Nathalie never talked about his mother.

He knew that Nathalie and Emilie had, at one point, been good friends.There were plenty of old photos squirreled away in odd places to corroborate this. Besides that, he could vaguely remember the amiable banter the two had occasionally exchanged when he was young, prior to his mother disappearing. But, after Emilie vanished… Adrien could probably count on one hand the amount of times that Nathalie had mentioned her.

_ Weird _ , he thought.

He felt like there was so much more to Nathalie than she let on. Like, that there was some story between his mother and her that he was completely unaware of. _ I’ll probably never know _ , he considered, before closing his bedroom door and returning back to the couch, where a half-watched  _ The Fault in Our Stars  _ was waiting for him.

 

\-  **x** -

 

Marinette was a sight for sore eyes. It’d be several days since Adrien had seen her, and, good lord, it was good to see her again, looking happy and healthy. He’d been quick to ask her how she was feeling, to which she babbled a rather cute, chaotic response.

Not only that, but she was wearing this ultra adorable Chat Noir-themed hoodie. Somehow, he didn’t notice until Alya pointed it out in the middle of their math class. Marinette had turned bright pink as half the class pulled out their phones and snapped an image of the notorious Ladybug wearing clothing themed to her supposedly platonic partner.

Adrien had settled with ogling her with his eyes. When she noticed him staring at her, she had turned even redder and buried her face in her arms. He couldn’t help but grin like an idiot at that.

Not long after, it was lunch time. The girls, Nino, and him all headed to Marinette’s bakery for some sandwiches and pastries. Marinette’s parents immediately swarmed her, pulling her into a hug and unleashing a barrage of worried questions, wanting to know if she was fine, was she hurt, etc, etc. 

It was wonderful to see. To be honest, Adrien felt very guilty about the whole emancipation thing. In hindsight, he wasn’t sure if was the most necessary thing. Maybe Marinette’s parents would have relented after all. Besides, more importantly, what if they hadn’t forgiven Marinette like they so clearly had now? What if they had held a grudge against their daughter for forcing her way? What if he, with the help of his father’s lawyers, had accidentally destroyed Marinette’s family?

Thank goodness that wasn’t the case. There was a lot of love in the Dupain-Cheng family despite everything they’d gone through so far.

Anyways, they sat down in the corner of the bakery by the window. Mrs. Dupain-Cheng brought them each a sandwich, insisting that it was on the house. Adrien, of course, argued and tried to press his credit card into her hand - god knew his father had enough cash to spare - but she refused, stating, _ it’s not up for debate _ .

It didn’t take long for Alya and Nino to bring up the Chat Noir hoodie again.

Adrien didn’t miss the way that Nino kept glancing at him, a tiny smile tugging at the edge of his lips.  _ Fuck, _ he’d thought the first time he saw that knowing smile.

To make it worse, Alya was also acting rather questionably. When Nino - with a humorous edge to his voice - asked if Chat Noir already knew about the hoodie, Alya was quick to quip, “oh, he so already knows,” and then she stared right at Adrien, deviously.

Was he reading into it? Or… was she implying…

Was three years of ultimate privacy coming to a quick and utter end? Did he manage to out himself to two members of his friend group within a freaking week? Maybe Nino had told Alya. Although, Adrien doubted that. Nino wasn’t a blabbermouth, at least not with delicate secrets.

“What!?” Yelled Marinette, “Why do you think that?”  _ Yes, why do you think that? _ Adrien wondered as he fought to keep his face emotionless. 

“Hun,” Alya replied matter-of-factly, “you’re all over instagram right now!”

Oh. Maybe he was freaking out over nothing. Alya immediately offered to show her instagram to Marinette and was swiftly shot down. Nino, however, was more than happy to see it. The two of them began to browse the various posts, while Marinette yanked her hoodie up and hid her face against the table.

She looked pretty damn cute with those two black cat ears flopping forward.

Adrien couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward across the table and whispered to Marinette, “If it’s any consolation, I’m sure you’ve made  _ Chat  _ pretty happy.” He tried to put a little edge to the name, as a sort of weak hint.

She peeked up at him, the black hood obscuring the majority of her face. Marinette mumbled something, perhaps something nonsensical, before reburying her face against the table. Then, her back rose and fell as she took a deep breath. When she next spoke, there was only a little quiver in her voice, “I’ll pr-probably never hear the end of it from him.”

Oh, that was absolutely certain. The next time he joined her as Chat, he was most definitely bringing it up.  _ Hey princess, I like your new wardrobe. Are you sure you aren’t in love with me?  _ Well, maybe he wouldn’t say that second thing. Things were already getting complicated enough, what with the whole Chat Noir/Adrien split. He was really hoping that Marinette would realize soon, on her own, who he was.

“Yea, probably not,” was what Adrien replied, chuckling.

“Marinette,” Nino said, his attention leaving Alya’s phone, “if you think that, then why’d you wear it?”

_ Because it’s stinking adorable and I’m her partner, _ Adrien thought. It wasn’t much of a mystery to him.

For some reason, Marinette looked almost nervous. She sat up and dropped her gaze to her lap, where her hands were wringing themselves together. “Chat saved my life,” Marinette stated simply.

Adrien winced.

Yes, it was true. After all, he’d been there and had witnessed her blunder. However, everyone made mistakes. In the end, neither of them were permanently hurt, so it was okay. Marinette was still a better superhero than him ten times over.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Joked Alya.

“Alya, you are wonderful,” Marinette replied sincerely, “I love you so much for staying with me, for taking care of me. I’m even grateful to your parents for being okay with it.”

“Yea, my parents are pretty cool.” Alya spoke playfully, despite the rather serious undertone in Marinette’s words. Perhaps she didn’t realize how serious her friend was being at the moment.

“There were these ticking bombs everywhere and I should have jumped back,” Marinette jumped into her story with absolutely no segue. Not only that, but her voice was shaking, rising and fall in pitch with every word. Adrien could only sit, frozen in horror as the girl he loved detailed her mistake from the other night, “I could have still done my reset charm afterward. Only, it happened so quickly I didn’t think like that. I don’t know, I think I thought I could outrace the bombs.” Then, she squeaked painfully, “I underestimated…” 

She didn’t finish her sentence. Instead, she sucked in a trembly breath, the corners of her eyes beginning to shine with moisture. Adrien wasn’t the only one at the table who was absolutely mortified; Nino and Alya were both listening, expressions sad and sympathetic. 

Alya reached forward and squeezed Marinette’s shoulder. Alya was somber this time as she told Marinette, “It was just a little, well,  _ lapse _ in judgement, Marinette.” That was exactly Adrien’s perspective of it too.

It didn’t seem to help. In fact, Alya’s words made Marinette mad. Her burrows furrowed and she shrugged off Alya’s hand. “That  _ lapse _ nearly got me killed. Worse, it nearly got Chat killed.”

_ But it didn’t _ , Adrien wanted to say. He kept quiet though, as Marinette mood had rather quickly converted from sad to fuming. He wasn’t sure what was safe to say.

Nino and Alya were silent too, each looking rather awkward. What could they say that Marinette didn’t already know?

Then, Marinette dropped this bombshell: “Maybe my parents are right…. maybe I should pass on my miraculous to someone else.”

_ Oh hell no.  _ Adrien stood up so quickly that he jostled the table and nearly knocked his seat over. 

For half a second, he forgot he wasn’t currently Chat Noir. Chat Noir, who was definitely not okay with Ladybug saying she wanted to give up her crime fighting career simply due to a little blunder. She was his partner, the Dick Grayson to his Bruce Wayne, the Wally West to his Barry Allen, the Kara Zor-El to his Clark Kent.

“ _ No _ ,” he stated fiercely.

_ … whoops.  _ That was a bit too much. Nino and Alya were both rocking surprised expressions with just a hint of amusement. Meanwhile, Marinette looked more frightened by his outburst than anything else. 

Blushing, Adrien eased himself back down into his seat. He forced himself to speak as calmly as he could, “Marinette, mistakes don’t define who you are. For the last three years, you’ve been the best superhero that Paris could ever hope for. You’re…”  _ The best partner I could have ever hoped for _ . Luckily, he caught himself before he said that. Instead, he said, “... you’re smart, kind, patient, and, not to mention, a brilliant combatant. You are a fantastic Ladybug.”

Marinette didn’t believe him. Or at least, that’s what Adrien surmised. She was staring at him, clearly confused, her jaw hanging open.

He wanted her to understand. He wasn’t just some boy spouting pretty words. The power of the miraculous, their superhero jobs, it went deeper than that. So, he added, “Marinette, fate chose you for a reason.”

Marinette began to cry.

Not like a weak cry with a few tears. No, this was a full throttle, squeak-in-the-back-of-the-throat, kind of cry. In the time span of about three seconds, Marinette started full out bawling and threw herself at him. Adrien was nearly careened out his chair as she wrapped her arms around him. 

“T-t-t-thank-nk y-you, A-Adrien!” He could barely understand her through her tears. 

“U-um,” he whimpered, “you’re welcome?” Why was she crying if she was happy with what he said? Oh my god, he’d somehow made it worse. He wasn’t trying to make it worse. What was he supposed to do? He’d never had a girl, Marinette or otherwise, crying on his shoulder.

Uncertainty, he wrapped his arms around her and patted her back, like he’d seen in movies where someone was upset like this.

If you’d told him two weeks ago that Ladybug had a fragile side to her emotional psyche, he might have believed it. Now, he was holding her, the real her, as she cried.

Then, it was like Marinette realized the awkwardness of the situation. She pulled herself away from him, her shy blue eyes refusing to meet his. Once she had sat back down, she gurgled, “I-I’m s-sorry.” She was still crying. “T-that, um, t-that was the ni-nicest th-thing…”

It was just the truth. Adrien blushed at Marinette’s words. 

Before he could say anything else, Alya jumped out of her seat and clapped her hands together. “Oooh-kay, Marinette, why don’t you and I take a walk outside? Get some fresh air?” Marinette was nodding even before Alya finished speaking.

The two girls rather quickly left, with Alya grabbing a handful of napkins off a table as they went. 

As soon as they’d left, Adrien turned to Nino and asked nervously, “Did… did I do something wrong?” Marinette might have said his words had been nice, but that didn’t change the fact that she was now standing outside, wiping away tears with a napkin.

Nino just laughed. “Nah bro,” he said, “you did exactly the right thing.”

“But…” Adrien argued, “she’s crying.”

Nino shrugged. “Yea, girls are crazy like that. Don’t worry about it.”

 

\-  **x** -

 

Later that day, after a long, boring dinner with his father where neither of them spoke, Adrien returned to his room and found a voicemail waiting for him on his Chat Noir phone. Ladybug - Marinette - was inviting him over for dinner. 

That was new.

Adrien wasn’t sure what to think. Part of him was thrilled. It was what he’d always wanted, a romantic dinner with the girl he loved. Although, nothing in her voicemail implied that it was going to be romantic. In fact, in her voicemail, Marinette was somewhat ambiguous as to why she was suddenly wanting to feed Chat Noir dinner.

Part of him knew why she was probably holding this dinner. She felt bad about the Boomer situation. Hell, she’d said exactly that earlier that today at her parent’s bakery. This was probably Marinette’s way to say  _ thank you _ to him, rather than a way to stir up some romance.

“You shouldn’t go.” Plagg’s words caught Adrien completely off guard. He spoke almost as soon as Adrien clicked the phone closed. 

“What?” Adrien replied, confused, “Why wouldn’t I?” Even if this was just a  _ sorry-I-nearly-got-us-killed _ kind of dinner, Adrien didn’t see it as a reason to refuse the offer.

“Because of your father.” Plagg emphasized every word, frowning. “He’s still keeping an eye on you. You need to take it easy and keep the sneaking out to a minimum for right now.”

Sure, what Plagg said was reasonable, but…  _ dinner. _ With  _ Marinette _ . “But… dinner. With Marinette,” Adrien echoed his own thoughts. “It’s almost like… a date!”

“It’s not a date and you know it,” Plagg huffed, crossing his little arms, “besides, what if Nathalie comes to check on you?”

“Okay, I’ll go for like, two hours, max. Besides, Nathalie didn’t swing by once after I got home from school.” 

“Adrien, it’s unnecessarily risky.” 

“I can always say I went to study with Nino. It’s not like I’ll stay out all night.”

Plagg rolled his eyes and grumbled, “I still say it’s a terrible idea.”

Adrien walked over the couch and dropped himself onto it with a loud sigh. “Plagg, it’s dinner with  _ Marinette _ . You know, the girl I’m absolutely in love with? Remember?”

Without making a sound, Plagg flew over to Adrien and hovered in front of his face. “Yea. The girl who’s in love with  _ Adrien _ and  _ not _ Chat.”

That was the raw truth. Adrien winced, despite being well acquainted to that fact. He’d been dealing with it for the last two weeks. Finding out that Marinette had a big crush on him, as Adrien… it was like torture. She didn’t know that he was Chat Noir, her number one partner. All this time, their passion had been mutual, but they had no idea.

_ Damn it. _

Then again, the last two weeks had been pretty crazy. Adrien hadn’t been able to resist dropping a few hints here and there. For example, on Sunday, he’d sent her like three cat memes, in hopes that she’d see them once she got her phone fixed. Adrien wanted her to know so badly, but he knew he could not simply tell her who he was. It wasn’t what she wanted. Although, if she figured it out by herself… then jackpot.

So, more hints. Little comments, big smiles, allowing himself to be more like Chat when he was Adrien, and vice a versa. He was hoping she was picking up on these things.

Maybe she was.

Adrien scratched the side of his neck and commented, “Maybe she’s realizing who I am. I mean, hell, I have been dropping a lot of hints.”

Plagg made a noise in the back of this throat, “You mean like that stupid  _ you should adopt a cat _ thing.”

Adrien grinned guiltily. That had been a rather heavy handed clue that had, ultimately, backfired.

“Look,” said Plagg, rubbing one of his fat cheeks with a paw, “I hate to break it to you, but I think you’re wrong. The miraculous suit has some pretty crazy magic that makes it very hard to recognize the other person. In fact, it actively prevents people from recognizing you.”

That was not a lie. Recently, Adrien had had first hand experience with this magical quirk. He knew who Ladybug was; but, sometimes, when she was decked out in her suit, he could not recognize her as Marinette. It seemed baffling that the two people were the same. Funnily enough, the more he saw her now, the less he was experiencing this. The last time, during the Boomer indecent, he had been fascinated by how Ladybug’s blue eyes were Marinette’s blue eyes. He’d found himself thinking,  _ how did I not know? _

The suit’s magic. That’s how. Regardless, Adrien couldn’t help but hope that Marinette could figure it out. Just like how he was now able to spot the similarities, maybe she was growing more and more capable of it.

“Marinette is very perceptive,” Adrien argued, “and very smart, Plagg.”

“It has nothing to do with smarts.” Plagg then spoke haltingly, emphasizing each word, “she. Doesn’t. Know.”

“Well,” replied Adrien stubbornly, “I think she does.”  _ Or has an idea, at least. _

“Okay, fine,” Plagg spoke sharply, his green eyes narrowed into slits, “I tell you what, let’s make this a bet.”

“A bet?” Adrien echoed, surprised.

“Yea. If Marinette figures out who you are all on her own, I will…” The kwami hesitated, tapping his chin in thought. After a few seconds of pause, he spoke again, “I will go without Camembert, and any of my other favorite fragrant cheeses, for one year.”

That was a shocking offer. Plagg loved Camembert and all other sorts of horribly smelly cheese. Not a day went by during which Adrien wasn’t subjected to the smells of his kwami’s awful food.

One year without the reek of fancy cheese… that was a crazy good offer.

Adrien blew out a lungful of air and considered it. “And if you are, for some reason, correct?” He asked.

“Then I get all the camembert and other delectable cheeses that I want for the next year.” _Yuck._ Adrien currently had a hard limit on how much camembert he currently bought for the kwami, due to the horrible stench it departed on his room. Then, as if that wasn’t enough to demand already, Plagg added, “I also want everything off my Amazon wish list.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“My Amazon wish list,” Plagg repeated in his squeaky voice. He then flew over to the computer in the corner of the room and bounced himself against the keyboard. When the computer woke up it, it was sitting on the Amazon home page. “I’ve been building it for awhile. By the way,  this internet stuff is pretty great.”

Adrien couldn’t help but smile and laugh. It was pretty funny to see his godly spirit creature using the PC successfully. 

Anyways, Amazon wish list or not, Adrien didn’t see any harm to this bet. Besides, he was almost positive he was going to win it. “Okay, you’re on. It’s a deal.”

Plagg eyed the keyboard monitor, a big grin across his face. “Oh man, I can’t wait to get all this stuff. Did you know they sell giant jars of catnip on here?”

Adrien laughed. “Don’t hold your breath,” He told the kwami, grinning good naturedly. Adrien was pretty confidence that he would in the bet before long; he’d have a year free of Camembert and a new romance with Marinette. 

Things were looking up.

 

\-  **x** -

 

He arrived at Marinette’s (well, technically his) apartment a few minutes before seven. She was so busy washing off a piece of cheese that she didn’t hear him enter, approach the counter, and start picking at the food she’d already put out.

When she turned around and saw him, she shrieked. “Why don’t you knock?” She barked at him, clearly flustered.

Adrien grinned, very glad that he’d ignored Plagg.

 

\-  **x** \- 

 

She was looking at him like she knew.

Like she now understood.

Her gaze was intense, boring into his. She shifted forward, onto her hands and knees, and began to inch down the couch until her knees bumped his thigh.

His heart pounded in his chest. Plagg was wrong, Marinette knew. Maybe she had just realized. Maybe she’d realized earlier - perhaps that was really why she had made this cat-food-themed dinner. A dinner they had been in the midst of eating, with food still remaining on their plates. Plates, which were resting passively on the coffee table in front of them.

Marinette’s face was impassive as she drew closer and closer to him.

Heat rushed to his cheeks. Was it the lighting, or were her cheeks pink? What on earth was going through her mind?

“Mari?” He whispered nervously.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she reached forward and roughly grabbed his shoulders and yanked him forward. His green eyes snapped wide in surprise as she all but headed him. Their lips smacked together, but wasn’t exactly in a pleasant way. His poor lips found themselves trapped between two sets of pearly whites. 

The taste of iron started to leak into his mouth even before Marinette fell away from him.

“Fuck!” He shouted in a mixture of pain and surprise. 

Wait.

Marinette... had tried to kiss him?

Marinette, his Marinette, had tried to kiss him. He was mentally jumping for joy as he stayed stock-still in real life. It didn’t matter that that inside of his upper lip was now sporting a nasty slice, he couldn’t have been happier.

If anything, this just proved it for certain. Marinette had figured it out. She knew he was Chat Noir. Hell, why else would the girl with a big crush on Adrien kiss Chat Noir?

“Oh hell,” Marinette whined, clutching her face and licking visibly at her own, probably destroyed, lips. It was kind of cute. “Chat, I’m sorry, so so sorry!” 

He started to laugh before she finished apologizing. Marinette - Ladybug - was apologizing for kissing him. What an insane thing.

Luckily, she started laughing soon too. When they finally got their giggles out, he said, “I don’t want to complain, but ow. I think you broke my face.”

He wasn’t expecting Marinette’s sassy, playful response. “Good news then. It was already broken. So no harm done.”

More laughter. Adrien was beginning to feel like the Chesire cat - he couldn’t stop grinning. He was so glad he hadn’t let Plagg talk him out of this dinner. Here he was, kissing the girl whom he’d had a crush on for three years; and, as the cherry on top, he would have a whole year without the reek of camembert stinking up his bedroom!

Marinette’s cheeks were bright red as she continued to lick at her lips. Adrien couldn’t help but stare. Excitement building up within him, he scooted himself a few inches down the couch until he was right next to her again.

“So…” he whispered, trying not to sound too giddy.

She leaned forwards him, her eyes meeting his and glazing over dreamily. “So…” she whispered back.

_ This is real _ , Adrien reminded himself. It was hard to believe. If he hadn’t been about to kiss Marinette for the second time, he might have taken a moment to pinch himself.

“What was that about?” Adrien mumbled playfully as he leaned bit by bit closer to her.

“Like I said,” Marinette’s words were softly spoken, like his, “I care about you.”

Oh boy. The Chesire cat inside of him came fully alive and he grinned from ear to ear. For a moment, a daring thought crossed his mind: he was in love with this girl.

Chuckling, he reached up and traced the delicate curves of her face with his fingers. If it hadn’t been for his leather gloves, he would have been able to feel and appreciate the supple skin on her face. Oh well. “Well, in that case,” Goodness, Adrien was shocked at how smooth his words were despite how  _ absolutely on fire _ his body was, “why don’t we try that again?”

“Okay,” she whispered back to him.

That was all the invitation he needed. This time, he orchestrated the kiss, using his hands to navigate their mouths together. No offense to Marinette’s kissing skills, but he wasn’t exactly wanting more lip-based injuries.

The very first thing he thought was,  _ oh my god I’m kissing Marinette _ . The second thing he thought was,  _ okay stay calm _ . The third thing he thought was,  _ okay what now?  _ Unfortunately, Adrien didn’t exactly have experience kissing girls. Other than a few very obnoxious attempts from Chloé a few years back, he’d never found himself lips-to-lips with anyone else.

While he was freaking out about not messing this up, Marinette took took control. Her arms looped over his shoulders. Then, she moved. She moved, but didn’t break the kiss. Adrien felt her rise up and lean forward, pressing her body against his.

It kind of hurt, with the cut on his lips, but he didn’t care. He could have a hundred cuts on his lips and he’d kiss her anyways.

There were so many wonderful emotions raging through him that he thought that maybe he might just explode.

Then she froze. This beautiful girl, who was pressed against him, claiming his lips, froze. A second passed. Then another. Adrien couldn’t take it, his thoughts immediately spiraling into the negative. Had he done something wrong? Was she regretting kissing him?

He pulled back and peeled his eyes open. He found Marinette staring at him, an odd expression on her face. Worry, confusion, or maybe nervousness. “Mari,” he whispered, terrified but trying not to sound like it, “is something wrong?”

“You’re trembling,” she whispered back and _ oh god _ , she sounded hurt. Like Adrien had personally offended her by trembling - wait, what? Trembling?

Oh fuck.

His purr reflex.

The first time he’d discovered it had been absolutely mortifying. At the time, he’d had been Chat for a month or so. In all the initial excitement, he been so focused on learning and practicing that he hadn’t taken a chance to relax and… ah, well, there’s no reason to get into the fine details of what happened. Regardless, he had, afterwards, screamed at Plagg,  _ what the hell, why do I purr!? _ And Plagg had barely been able to explain through his own laughter;  _ it’s something that Chat Noir does, sorry _ , the unhelpful kwami had said.

He hadn’t expected the purr reflex to kickstart now with only a small amount of kissing. Okay, well, he was kissing Marinette, but still.

“Err,” Adrien wasn’t really sure how to explain it (in the least embarrassing way), but he tried anyways, “that’s, well, um, it’s, ah,” this was going great so far, “sort of, kind of, ah, a... purr.”

There, it was out in the open.  _ Ugh. _

A frustratingly large grin appeared on Marinette’s face. She was way too amused by this fact. “I thought you weren’t really a cat,” she accused him cheerfully. She was referring to a comment he’d made earlier, when he’d teased her about the food she’d selected for dinner.

Adrien pouted his lower lip out and frowned. “Shut up,” he told her as he playfully reached up to tug on one of her pigtails. 

The beautiful gravity of the situation settled back down on them. He forgot about his chagrin about the purr and found himself, once again, drawn towards her. Her face was only a few inches from his.

He kept a loose hold on her pigtail and slid his other hand around to her back. Her blue eyes were dark but yet very alive in the fluorescent room lighting. They flickered back and forth, inspecting his masked face. 

Ladybug and Chat Noir. Maybe it was fated that they were to fall in love? Maybe all the Ladybugs and Chat Noirs ended up together, every new pair a perfect compliment for each other. Maybe the last three years had just been a predestined tango, leading up to this very moment.

Then, she spoke and ruined everything.

“I would have died on Thursday if it hadn’t been for you.”

Two awful things occurred to Adrien at once. First, this kiss was probably not driven by love. Secondly, she didn’t realize he was Adrien. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was so certain of the second thing - perhaps it was the way she was looking at him or perhaps it was due to their conversation earlier in the bakery, where Adrien and Marinette had already discussed this very thing.

Marinette leaned closer to him, her eyes sliding closed as she went to kiss him again. There was a very big part of himself that really wanted to meet that kiss, to forget his stupid realizations. But, he couldn’t.

“Shit, Marinette,” he hissed as he slid away from her.

The first realization was bad enough on its own. If the kiss was nothing more of an extension of the dinner, then…  _ fuck _ . Here he was thinking that he was madly in love with her and she was thinking about how he saved her life. It was heart wrenching. It wasn’t what he wanted. 

Not for the first time, he internally cussed Hawkmoth, his awful akumas, and the senior citizen who’d lost at bingo on Thursday evening.

“Chat…?” Marinette whispered softly, sounding nervous.

He tried to force himself to breathe evenly. He almost assuredly came off as rude when he spoke next, shaking his head as he did so, “Is that…” his voice was hoarse and he had to swallow hard before continuing, “... is that why you kissed me? Because I saved you? Because you, I don’t know, feel like you owe me?” He was well aware that he sounded like a whiny baby.

Marinette just stared at him.

She didn’t answer. Which meant that she didn’t say any of the words that Adrien wanted to hear.  _ No Chat, I kissed you because I love you, because I love Adrien _ .  _ You’re Adrien, I know now, I understand. Let’s make popcorn and watch one of those cooking game shows. _

No, she said none of that. In fact, she said absolutely nothing at first. At least she had the decency to look guilty.

Too many dreadful seconds passed. Then, Marinette began to cry.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know," she whimpered.

His heart melted like a soft serve ice cream on a hot day. What once was sweet and wonderful was now an inedible, gooey mess.

His body mirrored his emotional state. His muscles gave up at the same time as his heart did and he slid right off the couch and into a puddle on the carpet.  _ RIP, my dreams _ , he couldn’t help but thinking. Adrien groaned, “Marinette, you’re killing me.”

All he wanted was her to love him, the whole him. But, she only knew him as two parts, rather than as one whole.

“In multiple ways,” Marinette commented, catching Chat off-guard. It took him a moment to process that statement and realize that she was talking about the Boomer situation and his near death. 

For some reason, she seemed to think herself hilarious, and she began to chuckle through her tears.

Chat just felt more tired. He really wished Marinette saw the superhero gig like he did; life and death situations were simply a part of what they did. It wasn’t anything special what he’d done, nor was her mistake anything special. There was no reason to feel bad or grateful.

He sighed deeply.

The funny thing was that, despite everything, that dangerous thought was still in his mind as he watched Marinette giggle and wipe tears from her face. 

_ I’m in love with you, Marinette. _

He sighed deeply, “You’re a dangerous woman.” She was going to be the death of him, one way or another.

It was actually kind of nice on the carpet. Adrien was glad he had Nathalie hire cleaners to deep clean everything prior to Marinette moving in. It still smelled faintly of lemony detergent.

Maybe a minute passed. Adrien absently stared up at the ceiling and listened to the chirping of crickets. Marinette was quiet too.

It was a good chance to think.

Honestly, maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. Marinette’s identity had only been revealed two weeks ago. Since then, her live had been a whirlwind of activity. From the emancipation, to Boomer situation, etc… she had a lot going on. Her life was the definition of stress. In the midst of this chaos, it wasn’t crazy that she might act irrationally.

Adrien regulated his breathing, seeking calmness. He shouldn’t take it personally.

Besides, he already knew that Marinette cared about him in more ways than one. She cared about Chat Noir in a partner-sort-of-way and she cared about Adrien in both a friend sort-of-way and in a crush sort-of-way. She’d told him these things more than once.

It wasn’t the end of their fated love story. No, it was only a rough chapter in the middle. 

So, when Adrien spoke next, he was less frustrated and more resigned, “Marinette, you’ve got a lot on your mind. There’s probably things you still need to, um, figure out,”  _ like the fact that I’m Adrien, _ he thought bitterly, “Let’s just… not aim to complicate things right now.” 

Time was stupid. He wanted to kiss her again, now. It hadn’t been five minutes since they’d kissed and he already felt impatient for the next time.

“Okay,” Marinette agreed.

_ Good. _ There was no point in complicating today any further. Adrien sucked in his selfish desires and hefted himself off the floor and back onto the couch. 

“Let’s just watch some TV,” he said. A good, silly cooking show would help draw their minds off the dysfunctional passion between them. Adrien grabbed the remote, opened up Netflix, and began to scan through the shows. 

Only, then he saw some weird fashion show. Fashion was one of Marinette’s hobbies… a quick glance at her convinced him it was a good idea. She looked caught up in her own thoughts, worry creasing her brow. A show about fashion might help get her mind off all of the craziness.

“This looks good,” he lied as he selected the show.

Adrien relaxed back against the couch, balancing the remote on his thigh.

“Chat,” Marinette spoke suddenly, interrupting the host of the fashion show as he was explaining the rules of the game, “I want to know who you are. I’m ready to know. Please tell me your identity.” She spoke so certainly, as if she’d spent the last two minutes carefully selecting those words.

Adrien shuffled the remote back into his hand and clicked the pause button.

His brain was doing its best to keep up with today. First dinner, then the kiss, and now this? _ Well hot damn. _

He turned to look at her. She was watching him, brows still furrowed in thought - or perhaps determination? Shit, he’d dreamed of this moment even more than he’d dreamed of their first kiss. Her, asking them to reveal themselves to each other. Well, in the past, he thought they’d be doing it at the same time. 

The media took her revelation away, but there was still his.

Who he was.

His own name rested at the tip of his tongue and he was so very tempted.  _ Tell her _ , a part of him urged.

Two things stopped him. 

One was the fact that he wasn’t convinced that Marinette was doing this because she was really ready. Maybe this was another extension of feeling guilty. Really, this was the kind of decision she needed to think about. For the past three years, she’d been very much against knowing who he was (and yea, he’d offered many times). So, was the sudden change of heart legit or an impulse driven by the chaos of the night?

Would telling her right now be good? Or would it only further complicate their situation? His mother, back when he’d been a tiny kid and she’d still been around, had often told him,  _ everything in moderation _ .

The second thing was more selfish and silly. If he told her, right now, who he was… he’d have to deal with a full year of Camembert.  _ Ew. _ Besides, Adrien was still convinced that Marinette could figure it out. 

In fact, it was almost definitely better that way. It was more… natural. Anyways, Adrien was pretty sure that Marinette already had an inkling as to who he was. Maybe she just needed confirmation as to her suspicions.

_ Hm. _

“Marinette,” He replied slowly, thoughtfully, “I think you might already know.”

Adrien wasn’t expecting the frown she gave him. “No, I don’t think I do. I really haven’t a clue.”

_ Uh.  _ Not a clue? Really? But... he’d dropped a lot of clues recently… Adrien frowned too.  _ No, _ he told himself, _ Plagg isn’t right. She knows, even if she doesn’t know she knows.  _ Yea, that made sense. “Come on Marinette,” he replied, scooting a little closer to her, “try guessing. I haven’t been subtle recently.”

Something changed in her expression. It went from unguarded and vulnerable to, unfortunately, rather annoyed. “Chat, I don’t know. I wouldn’t be asking you if I knew.”

Adrien started to get desperate. “Come on, Marinette. Just guess! Come on, who could I be?” He bit his bottom lip nervously, his eyes pleading.

“No. Tell me who you are,” Marinette spoke indignantly, crossing her arms. 

“No.” The answer left Adrien almost automatically. 

She needed to figure this out on her own. He knew she could. Partially because he felt like that was more along what a sensible Marinette would want, and partially because he was not suffering through a freaking year of Camembert. No, not when he could avoid that by giving Marinette just a little more time to figure it out.

“No,” Marinette echoed, flabbergasted.

“You heard me,” Adrien replied, crossing his arms just like she was doing.

“You’ve begged me for the last three years for us to reveal ourselves to each other!”

“I can wait a few more weeks,” he said with a shrug.

“Chat, I’m not going to guess.”

“Then I guess you’ll never know.”

“You’re absolutely insufferable!”

“Love you too, princess.” He gave her his cheekiest grin.

Ah, this was the kind of back-and-forth he was used to with Ladybug. He’d missed it. Sure, it was pissing her off, but it was pretty funny. Anyways, this was the best thing for her at the moment.

Marinette reached forward and snatched both plates off the coffee table. As Adrien watched, amused, she stood up and stormed over to the kitchen. “Well, I guess dinner is over then,” she huffed.

Adrien laughed. He swore, as the years past, Marinette’s temper hadn’t gotten any better. When they were young, she’d occasionally gotten pouty about stuff. Three years in the future, and Marinette was still Marinette.

Oh well. It was good that he liked Marinette exactly as she was.

Adrien got up and stretched big. “Okay, fine,” he responded, “if you’re sure.”

He walked backwards towards the porch, watching Marinette carefully. She was making a point of ignoring him now as she washed off the plates. It was oddly cute. He knew she’d only be annoyed temporarily; probably within the hour, she’d calm down.

Too bad he didn't have time to wait around for that. Adrien knew he should get home. Plagg was somewhat right about being careful about his father and Nathalie. The sun was already down and it only got later with every passing minute.

The porch door  _ whush _ ed as he pushed it open. Marinette’s eyes flickered up to him for half a second before stubbornly falling back to down to the sink.

It made him smile.

If they were fated to be together, it didn’t matter if he gave her a few more weeks to adjust, to figure it out. There was no reason to rush.

Although, there wasn’t much of a reason to take it too slow, either. “Hey Bugaboo,” he told her playfully, “pay attention over the next week. I’ll drop a lot of clues for you.” 

To his great amusement, Marinette, with her cheeks bright pink, flashed him the bird.

He was laughing as he turned around and jumped off her porch.

 

\-  **x** -

 

The window was sealed shut. There was a thick layer of glue along the inside of the glass. The first thing that Adrien thought was,  _ that’s totally a fire hazard. _ The second thing he thought was,  _ oh fuck, I’m so dead _ .

Luckily, it was only eight thirty in the evening. As he de-transformed behind a bush, Adrien was mentally fabricating his story. He was at Nino’s house all evening, working on homework. No, a project. A project about a park. So, he and Nino had met in a park and worked until it was dark - obviously, Nino’s parents wouldn’t have had the chance to see him, so they wouldn’t be able to contradict his story, if asked.

Yea, that sounded good. He could run it past Nino later, just in case. He knew Nino would play along.

He knocked on the front door and heard his knock echo inside the cavernous house.

Barely a minute later, Nathalie opened the door. Like usual, she bore no emotions openly on her face. “Adrien,” she greeted coldly, “you’ve returned.”

He shrugged, but didn’t say more. It would be with his father that he’d argue with.

“Follow me,” Nathalie instructed before turning and heading deeper into the mansion. Adrien followed her.

No surprise, she lead him to his father’s office. The two of the entered together. However, while Adrien stopped maybe five years from his father’s desk - where his father was sitting, looking vaguely amused - Nathalie kept walking until she was standing next to Gabriel’s shoulder.

“So,” Adrien’s father spoke, his tone strangely placid, “I see you decided to sneak out again today.”

“I was working on a school project with Nino,” Adrien immediately fibbed. 

Before he could say more, Gabriel spoke again, louder, “Don’t lie to me, it’s pointless.”

_ Shit.  _ Gulping, Adrien tried not to let guilt or fear sneak into his face. Deny, deny, deny. He’d already played this game with his father before.

“But, don’t worry, my son.” Gabriel words were now sanguine. That in itself was odd; Gabriel rarely sounded happy. “I am not angry with you.”

Not angry? This was entirely backwards. His father was always furious with him when he disobeyed or lied. Disobedience, after all, was Gabriel’s least favorite thing. Adrien had been screamed at for much less.

Gabriel stood up to his full height, several inches taller than Adrien. His eyes were narrowed dangerously behind his cat eye glasses. There was something in the way he was acting that made Adrien horribly nervous. Something was wrong.

Something was very, very wrong.

“I, uh,” Adrien wasn’t quite sure what to say, other than to continue to deny his wrongdoing, “was just working on a project…” 

Gabriel was shaking his head as Adrien was speaking. “Don’t bother. I understand now. Perhaps, I should have guessed it before now.”

Guessed what? Adrien’s stomach started to do flips. He really didn’t like the way his father was eyeing him, like a predator watching a wounded bird. Adrien had to fight the urge to back up.

_ It’s my father, _ he reminded himself,  _ he’s just eccentric _ . For fuck’s sake, Adrien had been dealing with his father’s brand of crazy for a good eighteen years. Why was he getting worked up about it now?

“Of course, I had found it fascinating when Nathalie informed that you were allowing Ladybug to use your apartment.”

_ What? _

Adrien’s eyes immediately snapped to Nathalie. That was supposed to be a secret. She had told his father?

Nathalie wasn’t looking at him. Rather, she had half turned and was now staring rather lifelessly up at the painting of his mother. 

“I simply thought my squirrelly son was letting a little crush make him much too generous with  _ my _ money,” Gabriel emphasized _ my _ sourly. But, his tone was pleasant again when he next spoke, “But, it did make it much easier to monitor Ladybug’s visitors. Her parent’s bakery, unfortunately, had much too much foot traffic coming and going.”

Everyone of Gabriel’s words were entering Adrien’s ears and passing through his brain. But, he wasn’t sure what to do with this information. It didn’t make sense… it couldn’t make sense… 

Adrien began to hyperventilate.

Gabriel kept talking, “So I allowed her to move into that apartment.”

“It’s my apartment,” Adrien squeaked, “you have no say in it.” The apartment was under Adrien Agreste’s name and attached to his own personal account. An account that Gabriel Agreste’s name was not on.

Shrugging, Gabriel replied, “I suppose. Still, it worked out in my favor.”

Favor.

That word didn’t make sense. It was illogical. Why would Gabriel Agreste need to monitor Ladybug? The fashion world barely cared about the superheroes, short of making the occasional cute hoodie or adorable t-shirt.

“Favor?” Whimpered Adrien, his own thoughts leaking out into his words.

Gabriel laughed heartily. “Yes, Adrien,” his white teeth glinted in the bright office lighting as he grinned, “why do you think I had Nathalie draw up emancipation paperwork up _ in advance? _ ”

Adrien began to shake. The emancipation thing… that was done to help Marinette. That’s why he had mentioned it to her. That’s why he had called Nathalie. He hadn’t meant to play into some weird, twisted game of his father’s.

But why? What was his father’s endgame?

“And then, Thursday. You were missing all night. Coincidentally, the same night that both Chat Noir and Ladybug had a rather explosive run-in with the Boomer.”

Adrien’s heart might as well have stopped. He could only listen in horror as his father continued, sounding rather bemused.

“At first, I thought you could not be connected to that. I thought you were just an unreliable teen with a idiotic infatuation, sneaking out at night in a lame attempt to be helpful. It seemed ridiculous to consider you or your actions as anything more than that. And then… I considered it carefully. There were too many coincidences, after all. And, you are my son. There is some  _ good _ in you.”

Adrien didn’t like the way his father said  _ good _ , like it was a value that made him useful.

“I-I d-don’t know what, ah, you’re talking a-about,” stuttered Adrien, taking a step back. Despite his words, Adrien feared he knew exactly what his father was talking about.

His father’s gaze reminded him of how Nino looked at him in the bakery. Like… he knew. Only, his father’s gaze was much more malicious, much more greedier.  _ No,  _ Adrien prayed,  _ he doesn’t know. _

“So, I had video cameras installed in your room,” Gabriel calmly stated.

It didn’t take Adrien more than half a second to realize the implications of this. It felt like his world was crashing down around him. 

Cameras.

Cameras that surely caught up transforming into Chat Noir in his room earlier that evening.

Adrien blanched, lost of words. A thousand feelings welled up in him, most of them negative. 

“Imagine my joy -” Gabriel spoke loudly, throwing his arms up in a dramatic fashion, “- when I found out that my son is  _ Chat Noir! _ ”

_Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck_. His father knew. Oh, Adrien had always considered this a possibility, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with. Things were going to get complicated. His father was surely going to inject himself into Adrien’s superhero business. It wouldn’t be like Marinette’s parents, who were concerned about her. No, his father would only pursue his selfish desires. 

Nathalie was still staring at the painting of Emily Agreste, as if she was deaf to the entire conversation.

“My son -” Gabriel dropped his hands down to his office desk and leaned forward across it, “- can  _ be on my side _ .” He sweetly hissed these last few words.

_ My side? _

Apprehension was replaced by confusion. “Wait, what?” Adrien blurted automatically. Somehow, he immediately knew that Gabriel was not talking about the fashion industry. The dots started to connect themselves in Adrien’s mind. However, before he could fully process everything, Gabriel spoke again.

“Nooroo, dark wings rise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the wait on this chapter!
> 
> Not only did it end up being much longer than the other chapters, but I also moved to South Korea a little over a week ago. The days prior to the move and the ones after I got here were too crazy for writing.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you've enjoyed the switch of perspective and the crazy twist at the end! ;) What do you think will happen next!?


	5. Tidal Wave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien bakes a lasagna and complains about Mondays. Also, Hawk Moth gifts the two superheros something rather surprising.

-  **x**  -  **x**  -  **x**  -

It was raining cats and dogs.

Marinette had calmed down considerably. While it was frustrating that Chat was making a game out of his identity, she knew she shouldn't be that surprised. It really was in his nature. Besides, maybe it was good for her to have a bit more time to process everything.

In hindsight, it was curious how insistent he was that she should be able to guess his identity. That had to mean that he was someone she knew in real life and, perhaps even, was someone from her school.

But who?

Most of her fellow students had been akumatized over the past three years. There were only a few that hadn't… and she'd long ago disqualified pretty much all of them due to a variety of other reasons.

But, perhaps, she had made a mistake. Maybe there was someone that she shouldn't have marked off her mental list of possible Chats. One particular name immediately jumped to her mind, but she was quick dismiss it. After all, it was likely just her inner desires bringing  _that_ name up. Honestly, what were the chances that Chat Noir was the boy she'd had a crush on for the past three years? Considerably low, she was certain.

Marinette mulled through her thoughts while her television droned on and on, presenting some awful fashion show that Chat Noir had picked. It really was bad. Why on earth did he pick this show?  _Because it's fashion_ , she thought to herself, sighing,  _he knows you like fashion._

There a lot she didn't know about Chat Noir, but there was also a lot she did know. For example, she knew for certain that he truly did care about her.

_And here I am, toying with his emotions._

Marinette groaned and flopped her head back against the sofa. She really shouldn't have kissed him. That action definitely didn't help make her life any simpler.

A heavy knock on the door snapped her out of her self deprecating reverie.

She sat up quickly and froze. Did she imagine that? If not, who was possibly at her door at nine o'clock at night? Across the room, Tikki was clearly thinking the same thing, her round black eyes staring at the door with similar apprehension.

Whoever it was knocked again.

Marinette paused the TV and stood up, trying to think reasonably. It could one of her friends, like Alya, Adrien, or Nino. Only, wouldn't they text first? Her mind considered other possible explanations: maybe it was some little kid, lost in the storm? Or maybe it was a delivery man, working the night shift? She  _had_ ordered some new socks off Amazon the day before...

Hell, any which way, there really wasn't any reason for her to be frightened. Marinette wasn't just any teenage girl. If she needed to, she could always transform into Ladybug and fight off anyone she needed to, including Hawk Moth.

Marinette gulped. Hopefully, it wasn't Hawk Moth on the other side of the door. So far, he hadn't made any home visits, but there was a first for everything, right?

Marinette had to stand on her tippy toes when she got on the door in order to see through the peephole. Almost immediately after registering the mop of blonde hair on the other side of the door, she yanked the door open.

It was Adrien.

Well, a very, very bedraggled Adrien. He was soaked to the bone, his blonde hair darkened with water and clinging to his face. Which, by the way, looked rather red and miserable. And then, as if that all wasn't alarming enough, he had to two (also soaked wet) backpacks crammed onto his shoulders.

"Mari," he spoke, his voice hoarse and emotional, "can I stay here?"

She wasn't sure what to say, so she just nodded yes. First of all, it was his apartment, and secondly, she would never send away any of her friends when they were in such a state.

What on earth had happened?

Marinette stepped to the side to let Adrien in. He shuffled in quietly, leaning to the side so not to whack her with his overstuffed backpacks.

Overstuffed backpacks that, she realized, were probably packed with clothes and personal belongings. Was Adrien running away? She couldn't help but gasp audibly. Had his relationship with his father, the icy Gabriel Agreste, finally taken a dive for the worse?

She closed the door behind him and followed him into the living room.

His bags fell to the floor beside the couch with a heavy thunk. Marinette hesitated, unsure of what to say or what to ask. Should she ask him what was going on, or was that prying too much at the wrong time? God lord, he did look terrible. Adrien stood at stark contrast with the clean, brightly colored living room. He seemed gray in comparison with the blues and oranges in the colors of the couch and wall.

"I…" It sounded like speaking was difficult for Adrien. He swallowed heavily and then tried again, "I don't think I can go home." Those ominous words spilled out of him quickly as he stared blankly at the coffee table.

"Why?" Marinette blurted out the question automatically, curiosity getting the better of her. She almost immediately realized how abrasive her question was, and quickly amended, "Ah, you d-don't have to tell me, if you don't, um, want to…" Her voice trailed off.

Half way through her sentence, Adrien had turned and met her gaze. His red, puffy eyes looked rather dead and an expression of misery seemed permanently etched on his face. Marinette's stomach began to do flips of fear. Whatever had happened was definitely no minor thing.

"My father is Hawk Moth," Adrien stated somberly.

Whoa.

Hold the phone.

What did he just say?

Marinette was frozen, her jaw hanging open. Did those words really come out of his mouth? His father was Hawk Moth? That one sentence spurred a flood of questions within her mind. How did he find out? Was he sure? Was this why Adrien had never been akumatized?

Thankfully, she had the good sense to not ask any of these things right now. Adrien was hardly in the shape to survive a barrage of questions.

The soaked, sad boy flopped backwards onto the couch, groaning heavily.

As she watched Adrien stare blankly at the ceiling, a insolent thought rolled through her mind:  _I'm not really surprised_. It wasn't a nice thing to think, but she couldn't help it.

Gabriel Agreste, despite being akumatized once (suspiciously, in hindsight), had been at the top of her Hawk Moth suspects list for the better part of two years. There had been more than one clue hinting his involvement in the akumas and miraculouses over the years, after all. Then, on top of that, there was how the man himself behaved - he was, as Alya would put it, a complete dickwad.

She'd suggested her suspicions to Chat Noir more than once, but he'd always brushed her off. Sometimes, she'd felt like the only person in all of Paris who suspected Gabriel Agreste.

She hated that she had been right.

"I'll just sleep on the couch. I really am sorry for imposing," Adrien croaked, his polite nature persistent despite his traumatized state. "I just feel that we're - ah, I mean - I'm safer here."

"No!" Marinette yelped, slapping a hand over her heart. Adrien's eyes flew wide and a color rushed to his cheeks as he sat up rapidly. He started to stammer an apology, much to Marinette's absolute horror. She hadn't mean  _no_  to him staying over or to his safety. "No, no! I-I-I mean, you can have the bed! I d-don't want you to sleep on the, um, the couch!"

Hell, it was his bed, really. The idea of him sleeping on the couch was ridiculous.

The tiniest of smiles pulled up at his lips. "Mari, the couch is fine. The bed is yours," he replied simply.

A ridiculous whine eked out of her before she could stop herself. "Are you sure?" She asked, almost desperately, "I r-really don't mind, and, ah, well, you've had, um, a… hard day."  _Hard day_  was a insufficient way of putting it. She regretted that phrasing even as she said it.

"You could say that twice," huffed Adrien, rubbed his face with his hands, "but no, I'm sure. I want to sleep on the couch."

"The couch isn't as comfortable."

"It's fine, Mari. Please."

She switched her weight from leg to leg, unsure if she was ready to give up this fight. It just didn't seem fair to her. Then again, short of picking him up and carrying him to the bed (which she could probably do, she was quite strong even without her Ladybug suit) there wasn't much she could do about it.

For the next half an hour, Marinette hustled around the apartment, trying to make the couch more comfortable for Adrien. Blankets, pillows, a water bottle, advil, food, a spare toothbrush: she nervously offered all of these things to him, one at a time. She turned off the TV. She closed the blinds. She (rather stupidly, as it was his apartment anyways) pointed out to him where the bathroom was.

It wasn't until he gently informed her that he was  _quite tired_  that she finally snapped the living room lights off and retreated into the bedroom.

The door clicked shut and Marinette let out a long, heavy sigh. Her heart hurt for Adrien.

She stumbled forward and flopped down, face first, onto her bed.

She was glad that Adrien came to her. She understood why he did. Hawk Moth, father or not, was a dangerous person. Marinette might be the only person in all of Paris, other than Chat Noir, who stood a chance against him. Adrien was safer with her.

Marinette wormed herself underneath the blankets.

It was crazy to her, to think that Adrien was sleeping in her apartment. He was, what, maybe ten yards away? Curled up on the couch that she'd spend several evenings relaxing on. Her thoughts turned selfish and she blushed, burying her face into her pillow.

The reason that Adrien came to her was for protection. It was a smart, logical decision. That being said, Marinette couldn't help but hope in vain that there was a little more behind his decision.

Sleep crept up on her and her mind began to fade away.

As she stood in the doorway of dreamland, a tiny part of her brain picked up on a set of whispered, high pitch voices.

"They're safer together," said one.

"I know, I agree," said the other.

But, maybe she only dreamed those voices.

-  **x** -

The next morning, as Marinette poured the two of them some cereal, Adrien said, "I'm not going to school today. I need… a break."

She couldn't blame him.

Unfortunately, this was the start of multiple arguments between the two of them. First, Marinette tried to insist she'd stay home too in solidarity. That didn't sit well with Adrien; he insisted he didn't want her schoolwork to be impacted because of his situation. They went back and forth about it for awhile until Adrien mentioned he planned on spending the day looking for another apartment for himself.

"Marinette, honestly, I came here impulsively last night. I shouldn't be invading your privacy like this."  _Privacy shmivacy_ , she thought. Adrien was more than welcome in her apartment (which, of course, was technically his apartment). She was more than okay with it both for personal, greedy reasons and more logical ones.

Logical reasons, like his safety.

Marinette told Adrien this on no uncertain terms, "You're safer here, where I can protect you." She crossed her arms and glared at him, daring him to argue with her.

"It's not fair to you," he whimpered, weakly.

Much to Marinette's delight, he relented after a bit more bickering. He agreed to stay for at least a week, until they'd figured out more about the situation with his father. Marinette couldn't help but feel relieved when he agreed. Funnily enough, Adrien looked relieved too.

By the time they'd figured all that out, Marinette barely had enough time to get to school.

-  **x**  -

School seemed to crawl by. When she returned home, she greeted Adrien by handing him a small stack of schoolwork. He groaned but agreed to do it,  _only if she helped him_. Which, she did. They sat together at the island counter and completed their math, their French, and their science homework. Homework wasn't supposed to be fun, but Marinette couldn't help but enjoy it this one time.

Later that day, she was sewing in her room. Adrien was on the couch in the living room, watching some silly cooking show. For some reason, the cooking show was really good at cheering him up. Even with the buzzing of her sewing machine, she could hear his occasional giggles as the host made food related puns.

He watched several episodes while she worked studiously at her sewing. It wasn't until the sky was a lush purple outside of her window that he snapped off the TV.

She didn't immediately notice the absence of the TV's noise. She was focused on her work and the pleasant hum of the sewing machine as it stomped black thread into the red fabric.

There was a light knock on the door frame. Adrien stood, halfway in the bedroom, watching her curiously. Marinette blinked in surprise and then clicked off the sewing machine. "Hi Adrien," she greeted rather lamely.

"Hi Marinette," he replied with a little smile. Adrien stepped further into the room and perched himself at the edge of her bed.

It sent shivers up her back. Adrien was on her bed, just like in her dreams. Of course, he never had dark bags under his eyes in her dreams. Also, he usually didn't have a shirt on in her dreams.

"How are you… um, doing?" Was that an okay thing to ask? Marinette bit her lower lip nervously.

He shrugged. "I've been better."

Wincing sympathetically, Marinette whispered, "I'm sorry." She wished there was more that she could do for him, some way for her to shoulder some of his feelings. However, that wasn't how sadness - or any emotion - worked.

He shrugged again and dropped his gaze to the floor.

They sat in silence. Marinette's hands found the sleeve of the hoodie she was sewing and began to play with it, twisting and turning the fabric between her fingers.

"What are you sewing?" Adrien's asked suddenly.

"Oh…" Her grip tightened on the red sleeve and she blushed. "It's, um, a Ladybug Hoodie." Inspired by the Chat Noir hoodie that was currently hanging in her closet.

A lopsided grin grew on Adrien's face. "For you, or for…" His voice trailed off suggestively.

Her blushing got worse. "It's, ah, not for me," she admitted defensively.

Adrien stood up and took a big step forward, so that his hip was bumping into the back of her chair. He reached over her, stretching forward to touch the red fabric. "For Chat," he stated. It wasn't a question.

Marinette nodded and said tentatively, "if he wants it."

"Oh trust me, he wants it." There was something knowing in Adrien's amused smile. His green eyes switched from the hoodie to her. Marinette froze under their gaze, her mind drowning once again under the weight of a thousand thoughts. How did he know so certainly? Why… was he looking at her that way?

Then, Adrien's expression soured.

He took a step back and dropped back down onto the couch, frowning.

Marinette wasn't sure what to say, so she said nothing. Had she done something? Was he upset about the hoodie? Overcome with anxiety, she impulsively yanked on the sleeve. A tiny tearing noise resulted.  _Shit_ , she thought, _good job Marinette_. She needed to calm down and to stop panicking over everything Adrien did.

"My father," Adrien whispered, his tone dark.  _See?_  Marinette thought to herself, sighing through her nose,  _he's not angry at you_. Then, Adrien continued, "Hawk Moth. He says my mother is alive."

"He said  _what_?" blurted Marinette, shocked.

Had Hawk Moth completely lost his marbles?

Emilie Agreste disappeared many years ago, when Adrien was a kid, well before Master Fu gifted away the Ladybug and the Chat Noir miraculouses. She had disappeared out of the blue, leaving behind a frantic husband and a sad, little boy. Now, years later, most people just assumed she was dead.

Adrien included.

They'd had this conversation before. Her, Alya, Nino, and Adrien. It had been one summer night long ago, when they'd borrowed Nino's mom's van and drove out to the beach. They'd sat on the sand around a small bonfire, talking about anything and everything. It had been Adrien who'd brought up his mother. It was as if he'd been dying to talk to someone, anyone about it.

Other than yesterday night, it had been the only time that Marinette had seen Adrien cry.

"He said… he said she's alive and that's…" Adrien sighed deeply, "... that's why he needs the miraculouses. To get her back."

"Back," echoed Marinette, flabbergasted, "back from where?"

"I don't know," admitted Adrien, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, "I kind of, um, turned and ran, after that." His voice was getting croaky and emotional again. " _Shit._  I should have saw this coming. He's been messed ever since mom… disappeared."

"It must of broken him," Marinette whispered.

"It broke both of us," Adrien whispered back.

Marinette scooted her chair back and stood up. She forgot her shyness, her nervousness, and all of her other unimportant personal feelings. She sat down next to Adrien on the bed and wrapped her arms around him. Without hesitation, he returned the hug.

The two sat there, squeezing each other and breathing heavily, for a long time.

-  **x**  -

The next couple of days were, admittedly, quite nice. There were no akuma attacks, no calls from Gabriel Agreste, and their school teachers barely gave out any homework. After school each day, Marinette and Adrien were more or less left to their own devices.

Marinette could tell that Adrien was feeling much better. Starting Thursday, his puns returned. While Marinette was happy that he was happy again, she now had to live with a constant stream of jokes that - despite being solidly mediocre - had her in fits of giggles regularly.

The only worrisome thing was that some of Adrien's behavior was utterly random. He kept doing strange stuff, saying odd things, and buying useless crap on Amazon.

For example, on Friday, a box from Amazon showed up. It had some normal stuff in it, like new socks and some candies. However, Adrien had also bought an Hakuna Matata wall decal, which he had enthusiastically slapped up on the living room wall above the couch.

Then, as if the wall decal wasn't weird enough, he'd also purchased a whacky looking hat from Amazon. He'd been quick to place the red-and-white striped hat on his head. "What do you think?" he'd happily asked Marinette.

"Um, it's… interesting?" she'd replied, blinking. Honestly, the hat looked downright childish. It clearly wasn't a true fashion accessory; it was made from felt and more so resembled a costume piece than anything else. Thankfully, Adrien ended up placing the hat on top of the fridge rather than actually wearing it around.

The next day, on Saturday, Adrien spent the better part of the day baking a lasagna. This, in itself, wasn't weird. Marinette could appreciate a fine Italian meal as much as the next girl. What she didn't understand was why he insisted on having a brown, stuffed bear (also ordered off Amazon) sit on the counter while he cooked. Besides that, as they were eating the lasagna later that evening, he kept wanting to discuss how much he disliked Mondays.

"It's Saturday," Marinette kept pointing out to Adrien, baffled.

"Yes, thank goodness, 'cause Monday is such a drag."

On Sunday morning, he casually suggested to her that they should watch something on Netflix later that night. It was a quick suggestion, but it had Marinette blushing and gurgling affirmatives. In a dangerously optimistic way, it kind of sounded like he was asking her on a date. Well, a date inside the apartment, but still. A date.

Marinette couldn't help but be excited by it. Unfortunately, she had make it through the rest of the day first. Luckily, Sunday was an easy, fun day, which helped.

She and Adrien spent most of it with Nino and Alya. The four of them ran around town like hooligans, checking out new shops and exploring the parks. They didn't buy much except for the occasional nicknack and sweet snack. Although, at one touristy store, Adrien insisted on buying Marinette a Hello Kitty keychain. She tried to point out to him that she wasn't really a Hello Kitty fan, but he bought it anyways. She had to force a thankful smile when he clipped it to her purse.

The white and pink clashed with her black and red purse. Oh well - she wasn't about to reject a present, no matter how random, from Adrien.

Anyways, while their Sunday outing was undeniably fun, Marinette was practically bouncing on her toes when they parted ways with their friends after dinner. Now, it was time to head back to the apartment. It was time to watch some Netflix.

Her imagination ran wild as she and Adrien walked back to their apartment.

Maybe he'd try to kiss her this evening. In the glow of the TV screen, while the ending credits song played for whatever romantic movie they'd just finished (as surely, surely he'd a romantic movie, right?), he'd lean over and… ah! It would be perfect! Their first kiss!

They got back to the apartment and made themselves comfortable on the couch. Marinette had to remind herself to breath with Adrien sitting not even a quarter of a meter away.

Adrien grabbed the remote and said cheerfully, "I know just the right movie."

Her heart was beating hard in her chest and she smiled shyly at Adrien, "Sure, whatever you think is good." What would he pick? The Notebook? The Proposal? Dirty Dancing? There were so many good romantic movies!

He started clicking down the list of movies, passing the action category, the comedy category, the category inspired by that cooking show he was addicted to, and several other categories. Unfortunately, one of the categories he passed was the romantic comedy category.  _That's okay_ , Marinette thought,  _maybe he knows of a serious romantic movie_.

He passed that category too.

Marinette lost her smile.

Then he got to the kids movies. She shrunk down into the couch, squinting in confusion as he finally began to click to the right through this category. "Adrien," she spoke slowly, trying not to sound annoyed. She was getting a heavy feeling in the center of stomach. Unfortunately, it seemed like her own stupid optimism had led to too wild of assumptions.

"Yes, Mari?" he responded pleasantly, completely oblivious to her growing frustration.

"What are you looking for?"

"Hold on…" he replied, as he continued to click through the movies. Marinette watched apprehensively as he clicked past Disney and Pixar movies alike.

And then, he stopped on a movie.

"Found it!" Adrien proclaimed cheerfully, before hitting play.

"Adrien," Marinette muttered, flabbergasted, "why are we watching Aristocats?" This was a kids movie, for crying out loud! It was basically the polar opposite from what she'd been expecting. Okay, maybe she shouldn't have been expecting romance, but still - girls are allowed to dream.

"It's a great movie!" he responded, beaming wide at her, "What other reason do you need?"

So, instead of watching a romantic movie, cuddled up next to Adrien, Marinette spend her Sunday night with her arms crossed, being subjected to an old Disney classic.

A bunch of singing, French cats could not compare to the Notebook. Regardless, she dutifully watched the whole movie with him.

When the movie ended and the credits began to play, Adrien scooted closer to her on the couch.

She blushed when his thigh brushed against hers.

"Marinette," he whispered to her, leaning close to her, "what''d you think?"

"It was…" she struggled for a positive word, "fine." She was still irrationally peeved about the whole romantic movie thing.

"Only fine?" Adrien blew out a heavy sigh, "I thought you'd like it a lot. I mean, come on, French cats."

She stared at him, unsure of where he was going. "What about French cats?"

He grinned big and looked at her expectedly, as if she as suppose to remember or realize something. What, was he trying to imply something about Chat Noir? She'd already told him before that she wasn't into Chat Noir! At least, not in the same way that she was interested in him.

She struggled to find the right words. Maybe she needed to make it extra clear to him.  _Chat Noir is my partner and my friend, but I am not in love with Chat Noir._  Yes, that sounded good. "Chat Noir -" she began to say.

"Yes?" he responded cheerfully.

For a split second, she was annoyed at being interrupted. Then, it sank in.

Disbelief and shock filled her in equal amounts. Had she heard him wrong? Had he heard her wrong? Yes, it must be one of those two things. There was no way that this boy sitting on the couch here with her as both Adrien Agreste _and_ Chat Noir.

 _I'll drop a lot clues for you._  That sentence, uttered by Chat Noir the last time she'd saw him, suddenly echoed in her mind. Clues. Like, a Hello Kitty keychain or a movie about French cats.

Noises that weren't quite words gurgled out of her.

Adrien chuckled huskily. "Silly bug," he whispered, his words rumbly, as if he was purring. Then, he leaned forward and quickly pressed his lips into her forehead.

Marinette's brain one hundred percent circuited.

Adrien drew back and stood up. "I'm going to get ready for bed," he told her as he stretched big and faked a yawn, "it's already late!" Whistling cheerfully, he turned and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Marinette stayed on the couch, immobile. Her mind couldn't put together a cohesive thought -  _what - how - but - I don't - oh my god - he is - aaah - I told him I liked him - aaah!_

A high pitched, squawky voice spoke from inside the bathroom, just loud enough for Marinette to hear, "Does this mean I don't have to hide any more?"

"Maybe." Marinette could only faintly hear Adrien's voice through the door. "But it means I win"

"No way," the squawky voice scoffed, "you cheated."

The shower turned on and Marinette could no longer hear anything else.

Rubbing her temples, she collapsed back onto the couch. Her brain felt like it was going through a system update. A part of her was still in denial despite how the mental fog that separated Adrien and Chat Noir was now disappearing. For the first time ever, she could picture Adrien's eyes behind the Chat Noir mask. It was weird how, suddenly, she could hold that image in her head.

Little giggles sounded off right beside her ear. Tikki was hovering next to her, smiling softly. "Close your eyes and relax. Give it some time to process," the kwami suggested.

"Have you known?" asked Marinette, "have you know this entire time?" She wasn't asking because she felt betrayed. She always figured that Tikki wouldn't tell her, even if she did know.

The kwami shrugged. "I've suspected for a long time. It wasn't until the Boomer incident that I learned for certain. Now, rest." Tikki said the last two words in a stern, motherly voice.

Marinette didn't need to be told again. Exhaustion from all that she'd just learned had welled up within her. She took one last glance at the Hakuna Matata decal that was stuck to the wall above her before closing her eyes.

Sleep claimed her soon.

-  **x**  -

Arms wrapped around her, lifting her up.

Sleep fogged her mind. She snuggled closer to the warm body that held her, wrapping her arms around it. They began to move, the gentle swaying of each step luring Marinette back to sleep.

A tiny part of her registered that it was Adrien, holding her. If she could purr like he could, she would have.

Then they were stopping. The arms relinquished their grip around her, easing her down onto a soft surface. Only, Marinette wanted that warm body. She liked the heat, liked the feeling of being pressed together. She whined, refusing to unlock her arms from around his neck. "No…" she mumbled softly.

"Marinette, let go," he whispered, amused.

"No, come here," she responded almost drunkenly.

Somehow, he managed to get her arms off him. Marinette groaned in annoyance before twisting herself up in her bed sheets. Stupid boy, not wanting to climb into bed with her. "Good night, princess," she heard him say as sleep snuck back up on her.

-  **x**  -

The next morning, Marinette could barely make full sentences around Adrien. She kept thinking about how she told Chat Noir she had a crush on Adrien and about how she made out with him. All this reduced her to being rather dysfunctional.

He barely seemed to notice. While she sat at the island and avoided making eye contact, he happily devoted himself to making breakfast for both of them.

"I hope you find it  _eggscellent_ ," he told her as he slid a plate full of eggs and bacon in front of her.

"Ah sure um okay yea," was Marinette's sophisticated reply.

Later, as Adrien drove them both to school, he hummed some catchy pop song and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Marinette couldn't help but shyly smile, his positivey infectious.

-  **x**  -  **x**  -  **x**  -

Nathalie was standing outside of the school on Monday morning.

Marinette and Adrien saw her at the same time. They both froze. Other students continued to walk past them, talking and laughing as if everything was normal.

Nathalie looked like she always did: prim, proper, and apathetic. Her outfit consisted of an ironed skirt and a neatly buttoned white top. Her hair, as always, was collected into a pristine bun. Everything about her screamed mundane businesswoman.

But, Marinette and Adrien knew better. This business woman was more than that; she was part evil sidekick, assistant to the nefarious Hawk Moth. Her neat appearance was a front, belying the chaos she and Hawk Moth brought regularly to Paris.

Her heels clicked on the sidewalk as she marched over to them.

Adrien stepped defensively in front of Marinette.

Nathalie stopped a meter away. Both Marinette and Adrien watched warily as she reached into her skirt's pocket and drew out a simple black box. She held it forward, towards Adrien. "Your father wants you to see for yourself," Nathalie stated simply.

It could be a trap. There was no guarantee that whatever was in that box was safe. For all they knew, it could be a bomb or something equally as nasty. Marinette scooted to the side by a step, trying to read Adrien's expression.

He tentatively reached forward and took the box from Nathalie. He held it carefully, as if it might go off with the wrong movement.

"You remind me so much of your mother." Nathalie's words came out of nowhere. Her words were oddly unbalanced, colored with dangerous emotions. Marinette never heard Nathalie speak in anything but a clinically cold tone before. "Sometimes, it's overwhelming. You're good, like her."

Adrien looked shellshocked. He stared at his father's secretary, his mouth agape. Clearly, this was not a normal confession for Nathalie to make.

That was all that she said. Nathalie stepped around them and walked off, towards a limo waiting in the street.

-  **x**  -

At lunch, the two excused themselves from Nino and Alya and slipped off. Luckily, Master Fu's place was only a few streets away. No transformation was required to get there, which was good. Marinette and Adrien were trying to maintain an air of normalcy as they hoofed it to Fu's.

That air of normalcy was, of course, false. There was nothing normal about the situation. The black box, which as now tucked securely in Marinette's purse, had them both freaking out.

The two of them had crammed themselves into a tiny broom closet (where they could have privacy) right before their classes started. There, they'd opened the box.

It was the peacock miraculous.

It wasn't Adrien or Marinette that recognized it. While they known about the existence of this miraculous, they had never seen it before. Master Fu had told them it had disappeared from his collection around the same time as the butterfly miraculous.

It'd been Tikki and Plagg, floating up out of a purse and a pocket respectively, who recognized it with gasps. In the moment, Marinette hadn't been sure what to be more overwhelmed about - the fact that she was seeing Adrien's kwami for the first time or the fact that Gabriel Agreste had purposefully returned a miraculous to them.

And, what had Nathalie meant _, 'he wants you to see for yourself?'_

What was this miraculous supposed to show them?

That's why they knocked impatiently on Master Fu's door. Thankfully, Master Fu was home and gave them a big smile when he opened the door. Only, his smile fell when he registered their worried expressions.

"Come in, come in." He had ushered them in and then hurried off to go make a pot of tea. According to Master Fu, tea helped calm the soul.

Once they'd all settled around his Chinese style low table and been served a cup of hot tea, Master Fu finally accepted the black box from them. He popped it open and sucked in a breath of air. "The peacock miraculous," he muttered in surprise.

"My father's assistant, Nathalie, gave it to me," explained Adrien.

"And why do you think she possessed this?" asked Master Fu curiously.

"Ah. It wasn't her's. It's from my father. He's… Hawk Moth. He has the butterfly miraculous." The words rushed out of Adrien. Marinette listened sympathetically. There wasn't much she could do, other than sip her tea and smile weakly at Adrien when he finished talking.

"I suspected so," Master Fu sighed, "however, I don't understand why he would simply give you this miraculous." The old man turned the pendant around in his hands, causing the green accessory to glint in the fluorescent lighting.

"I think he's gone crazy," Adrien offered bitterly.

"Maybe, maybe not," muttered Master Fu, squinting at the peacock miraculous, "first, let's find out what the peacock kwami knows."

There, at the table, with steam still rising up from their teacups, Master Fu clipped the peacock miraculous to his pineapple-themed Hawaiian shirt. He tapped lightly on the miraculous and then murmured, "awake."

White, blue, and green light spiraled out of the pendant. Marinette shielded her eyes from the brightness. When the lights had subsided, she looked again: there was now a blue and green kwami hovering over the table. Like a peacock, it had a fan-like tail and a few feathers sticking out of its head.

The first thing the kwami did was moan and grab its head. Then, it began to sway in the air, as if losing its balance. Plagg and Tikki were quick to fly forward and grab onto the sides of the peacock kwami, stabilizing it.

All three humans sat in silence, watching the kwamis.

"Hey, it's okay, you're okay," whispered Tikki as she held onto the peacock kwami.

"How do you feel?" asked Plagg, his squawky voice surprisingly kind.

The peacock kwami blinked several times. "I…" It's voice was croaky but high pitched like the other kwamis. Marinette couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor thing. How long had Hawk Moth held it, trapped in some airtight safe his extravagant mansion? And, what had he done to it? She'd never seen a kwami look sick before.

Tikki rubbed the peacock kwame's back supportively, "Take your time," she encouraged.

The peacock kwami took a deep, shaky breath. Then, it looked around the room curiously. Its turquoise eyes swept across both the Chinese decorations of the room and the people alike, with very little reaction. "Where am I?" The kwami whispered, its scratchy voice sounding dreamy.

Both Plagg and Tikki gasped. Plagg let go of the peacock kwami and slapped both his paws over his mouth, hissing, " _shit_." Even Master Fu seemed disturbed, his brow furrowing.

Marinette had no clue what was going on. So, the little kwami was confused. What did that mean? Did that mean that Hawk Moth had done something particular, something terrible? She found herself hating Hawk Moth more, despite not really understanding what all this meant.

"You're in Master Fu's house," Tikki replied tentatively, "you are safe here."

"I don't remember it," stated the peacock kwami as it continued to look around, squinting, "I… I don't remember anything."

"That's normal," Master Fu spoke kindly, "your memories will come back in time."

Meanwhile, Plagg had floated a foot away from the kwami and was wringing his paws together. Adrien was watching his kwami with evident concern. Something about what happened to the peacock kwami was really getting to their own kwamis.

"Do you, ah, remember your name?" asked Tikki.

The peacock kwami frowned in thought. "Yes," she said after several long seconds, "I think my name is Lee."

-  **x**  -  **x**  -  **x** -

The fox miraculous was tucked into Marinette's purse. Throughout the day, she kept checking on it, as if it might suddenly disappear. It was weird to think that, in the span of one day, her purse had held two different miraculouses.

" _I think you two need more allies_ ," is what Master Fu had told her and Adrien. Then, he'd retrieved the fox and the turtle miraculouses from his special puzzle box. " _I trust your judgement._ " He'd been rather quick to dismiss them after that, telling them that they could check in on Lee again in a day or two.

It hadn't taken Marinette long to decide who to give the fox miraculous to. There was something about the orange glass veneer and heavy silver of the necklace that brought one particular name to her mind.

Alya.

Thankfully, Alya had happily agreed to hit up the Dupain-Cheng bakery after school.

Meanwhile, Adrien had headed off with Nino after school ended.

"I'm so getting donuts," Alya commented as they walked down the street, towards the bakery, "I don't know about you, but I'm craving sweets."

"Donuts sound good," casually replied Marinette as she sneakily glanced down each alleyway they passed. She was trying to find the perfect one to drag Alya into.

"And maybe a sandwich too. I'm really hungry. While you and Adrien were off having a romantic lunch, me and Nino had convenience store hot dogs."

"That's nice." Most of the alleyways were too well lit, or with busy shops sitting on them.

"Nice? They were lukewarm, mediocre hotdogs! How could you - Marinette, are you even listening?"

"Right, hotdogs, sure."

"Marinette!" Alya stopped, planting her feet. Marinette snapped out of her thoughts and blinked at her friend.

"Oh, um, sorry Alya. I was thinking."

Alya rolled her eyes. "You don't say. Well, stop. We're having casual time now." Then something about Alya's attitude shifted, annoyance becoming concern. She frowned in an almost motherly sort of way before sternly telling Marinette, "You need to relax every now and then. Just because you're a superhero doesn't mean you don't get to enjoy your youth."

For some reason, this only confirmed Marinette's intention to give the miraculous to Alya. If anyone could handle it, it was the bold girl standing in front of her. Her best friend.

So she grabbed Alya's arm and yanked her into the nearest alleyway. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing. Dark, narrow, and without any major shops at the end. "Whoa, what's gotten into you?" Alya yelped as she stumbled after Marinette.

"I have something to give you," whispered Marinette as she pushed Alya behind a dumpster.

Eyeing the dumpster warily, Alya whispered back, "I'm not sure how to feel right now."

Marinette fished out the simple white box that held the fox miraculous from her purse. She held it carefully between her palms and stared stubbornly at Alya. "Alya, can you commit yourself to Paris?"

Finally, Alya sobered up. Gulping heavily, she shrunk back against the alleyway's bricks and muttered, "Ah, sure? Yes, I guess. Wha - why?"

"Because I'm about to ask you to join me…" Suddenly, Marinette found herself overwhelmed and she lost her words. Here she was, holding miraculous in her hands, about to give it to her friend. She, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, was about to pick Paris' next superhero. And, she was doing so in some random, grubby alleyway. Eep.

"Join?" Squeaked Alya, her eyes going wide like saucers.

Marinette simply snapped open the white box and showed Alya the fox pendant.

"Alya, will you be the Robin to my Batman?"

-  **x**  -  **x**  -  **x**  -

Later that night, Marinette was watching one of those silly cooking shows that Adrien loved. She was alone in the apartment, swaddled up in both the Chat Noir hoodie and in a blanket. It almost felt like a normal evening.

Of course, it was anything but normal. Barely four hours ago, she'd given Alya the fox miraculous. Then, they'd spend the rest of the evening talking about the Hawk Moth situation, getting to know Trixx (Alya's kwami), and trying out Alya's new skills. It had been exhilarating and exhausting.

Marinette had only gotten back to the apartment half an hour prior. Adrien wasn't back yet; he was most likely still with Nino, helping him test out his new skills.

Well, Marinette didn't know for certain that Adrien had picked Nino for the turtle miraculous, but she figured it as a pretty good bet. In fact, that's what Alya had guessed too. At the very beginning of Marinette's explanation of everything, she'd told Alya that Master Fu, the protector of the miraculouses, had given both her and Chat Noir a miraculous to give to someone worthy.

"Oh! Do you think Adrien will give his to Nino?"Alya had shouted, her eyes lighting up.

Marinette froze, blinking in surprise. At no point had she said Adrien's name. She was figuring she was probably going to have to, as secrecy would only be a hindrance at this point. But, she hadn't said it yet.

"Alya," Marinette had muttered, frowning, "how do you know about Adrien?"

Rubbing the back of her neck, Alya laughed with embarrassment and said, "Ah! Sorry. He called me from his own cell phone, the night of the Boomer incident. I kind of figured. Besides, you two have been so lovey dovey recently that…" Alya grinned suggestively, her cheeks reddening, "... well, you know that I've always thought you'd be perfect with Chat Noir."

She'd playfully slapped Alya, cussing at her in embarrassment. However, this did not dissuade Alya at all. For the rest of their evening, she kept occasionally referring to Marinette as  _Elastigirl_.

But, Marinette was not Elastigirl and her and Chat Noir were far from a happy family. While they'd share one short passionate make out session, it hadn't really counted. In the twenty four hours since she'd learned that  _Adrien is Chat Noir_ , nothing particularly romantic had happened between them.

The apartment door clicked open and Adrien's voice called out softly, "Hey, I'm back."

"Hey," Marinette was quick to reply, sitting up a little, "welcome back."

He closed the door, dropped his school bag, and stepped into the kitchen. As anyways, he looked flawless. Adrien Agreste, the model, was the definition of beauty. Then, he flashed her a perfect smile and Marinette's stomach started doing flips.

"I gave the turtle miraculous to Nino," Adrien informed her as he walked over to the couch.

Marinette watched him approach, feeling more and more nervous with every step he took towards her. "I gave mine to Alya."

"Shocker," he said with a playful grin as he reached the couch. Then, he turned and fell backwards over the couch's arm. Yelping, Marinette didn't manage to scoot out of his way fast enough. He landed with his head propped up against her thigh.

"Adrien," she complained.

"Marinette," he teasingly whined back, before closing his eyes and sighing deeply.

Too many feelings were whirling around inside of her. Honestly, Marinette wasn't sure what to do or how to proceed. Twenty four hours wasn't really enough to process everything. And, there was a lot to process; starting with how the French cat she'd fought evil with was also her biggest crush.

Part of her kept thinking she was going to wake up and realize it was all a dream.

Only, if it was a dream, it was a very realistic dream. Marinette was hyper focused on the weight of Adrien's head on her thigh.  _Fuck_ , she thought, trying to keep her heart and mind calm. What was wrong with her? Her cheeks were already on fire and he'd barely been back in the apartment one minute.

"Oh, you've got my favorite show on!" Adrien commented cheerfully, twisting his head to watch the TV.

"Um, yea," murmured Marinette, feeling even more embarrassed. After all, she didn't really like the show. She was only watching it because he liked it. Which, she realized, was pretty silly.

They sat in silence for the next ten or so minutes while the contestants battled with odd ingredients and Marinette battled with her ridiculous hormones.

When the episode ended, Marinette felt a tug on one of her pigtails. Adrien was looking up at her, a lopsided grin on his face. "So," he whispered secretively, as if they weren't in an otherwise empty apartment, "do you want to watch another episode, or… do something else?"

"What, ah, what kind of s-something else?" stuttered Marinette, losing all control over her racing heart.

Adrien sat up and twisted around, propping himself up on his hands. His green eyes locked onto her blue eyes. "Well, there's something I've been wanting to try again…" That something was made very obvious by how his eyes glanced down at her lips.

 _Yes please,_  Marinette thought automatically, but all she could manage to say was meaningless gibberish. "Ah, um, well, ah, haha, oh, aaaaah…" She kind of felt like throwing up, but that wouldn't be romantic, so she didn't.

One of his hands came up and gently cupped her chin. Marinette froze and her brain went utterly blank. This was different from when Chat Noir had kissed her. Back then, she didn't realize that she was kissing the boy that she'd been essentially in love with for the past few years.

Now she knew.

Now he was getting closer. His eyes slid shut.

Her eyes did too.

Unfortunately, his lips never met hers.

There was a faint metallic sound, one that Marinette barely registered. However, it caught Adrien's attention, enough to halt his progress towards her. When she peeled her eyes open too, she found Adrien staring over her shoulder, his expression stony.

Marinette twisted around and followed his gaze to the balcony.

There, perched on the balcony railing, was an adult man decked out in purple and white leather. On his chest was a symbol she'd seen many times, one of butterfly wings.

-  **x**  -  **x**  -  **x**  -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come on Gabriel, leather was so last season.
> 
> I wonder what he wants...
> 
> By the way, if you're liking Entropy, you should check out my latest Adrinette one-shot, Love Juseyo!


	6. Submerged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knock knock, who's there? Oh, it's Hawk Moth. He's come to visit. How nice.
> 
> Also in this chapter: Marinette blushing a lot, dragons, a game of footsie, google translate, tomato pincushions, and more!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter one has received a face lift on several of its major scenes (nothing that drastically changes the plot though). If you are in the mood for rereading, it might be worth going back to that chapter before continuing. There's also a podfic (audio recording) of chapter one that you can listen to!

- **x**  - **x** - **x**  -

The cold wind rushed into the apartment as Adrien pried open the balcony door. Marinette was right behind him, her hand resting tentatively on the small of his back.

His father, Gabriel Agreste, looked more alien than human, what with his silvery mask covering the majority of his head. The off-putting mask nearly perfectly matched his gray eyes, which were fixated on the teenagers. "Adrien," Gabriel spoke formally, "I understand you are still  _on edge_  about the situation." He said the words  _on edge_ with extra emphasis, as if he personally thought that it was a ridiculous thing for Adrien to be.

Adrien was flabbergasted. Did his father really think he could simply march back into his life and start bossing him around again?

It was ridiculous. After all, they were enemies. They just hadn't known it until a few days ago.

Standing up straighter, Adrien glared at his father and tried to emanate the same level of authority. "I'm not  _on edge_  about anything," growled Adrien, "I know exactly where my loyalties fall."

The gray mask warped as Gabriel's brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed. "There is so much you don't know, so much that you don't understand," he snapped, acid in his tone. A little shiver of fear raced down Adrien's back. He'd long ago learned to never make his father angry; and yet, here he was, purposefully defying him. It was, admittedly, kind of frightening.

Adrien still managed to growl, "I know enough."

"No, you don't," Gabriel spat, but then seemed to reconsider his words. Pinching his nose, Gabriel sighed heavily. When he spoke next, he did so in a kinder (albeit strained) way. "Look, I understand that you have never thought of Hawk Moth as anything but evil -"

"You've been trying to kill us for years," Adrien accused.

"Kill you!?" shouted Hawk Moth, "Hardly! That was never my intention -"

"Oh, bullshit!"

"Adrien, calm down," whispered Marinette, stepping a little closer to him. He could feel her body heat, could feel the front of her shirt brushing into the back of his.

Adrien clenched and then unclenched his fists. Marinette was right. He was getting emotional. This wasn't the time to be short-tempered. They needed to proceed carefully in this conversation.

Hawk Moth waited and watched, his face impassive. When Adrien had visibly calmed, Hawk Moth cleared his throat and spoke again, "I never aimed to kill. I always actively avoided it. Trust me, I already know how awful death is. I do not wish for more death in the world."

As much as Adrien wanted to yell at his father, to say _bullshit_  again to him (seriously, he'd never actually cussed at his father like that - it was a wee bit exhilarating), he couldn't. His father was telling the truth. In fact, he and Marinette had already discussed it before. Hell, he'd even discussed it with Nino earlier in the day, (after he'd given his friend the turtle miraculous).

Hawk Moth didn't kill. He'd had many opportunities to, but had never taken advantage of them.

"Sharp Shooter," murmured Marinette and Adrien glanced back at her. She was looking at Hawk Moth as if she was trying to read him.

"Yes," Hawk Moth replied grimly, "it would have been very easy… with that akuma."  _Easy to kill you_. Hawk Moth didn't say it, but he didn't have to. Another shiver ran down Adrien's back.

"What do you want?" asked Marinette, stepping around Adrien so she was by his side. He couldn't help but wish she'd stay behind him. It was safer there, farther from his lunatic father.

"To save my wife," Gabriel replied simply.

There it was again, the impossible sentiment. Adrien's mother was dead. Adrien didn't know why or how, but he knew it must be true. Emilie Agreste had not been the kind of woman to abandon her family. Some tragedy had befell her.

Adrien could only assume that his father's plan hinged on raising her from the dead. An idea that, if television and movies had taught him anything, was definitely bad and doomed to backfire. The laws of nature were not meant to be played with like that, no matter what magical miraculouses you possessed.

"You've lost it." Adrien meant to speak in a haughty fashion; instead, his words came out more like a whimper.

That's when Gabriel reached into a black cloth bag that was looped across his chest. In the darkness of the night, Adrien hadn't noticed the bag prior. From this strangely mundane bag, Gabriel produced something red and rectangular. Both Adrien and Marinette took a step back, as if they were perfectly in sync with their train of thought:  _what is that, is it dangerous?_

However, when the moonlight struck the object, it was revealed to be just a book. An thick, maroon red book.

"Your mother isn't doomed," Gabriel said gravely as he held the book forward, offering it to them, "read this. Learn the truth."

It was Marinette who reached forward and accepted the book, her blue eyes sparkling with curiosity. Meanwhile, Adrien had to fight the urge to snatch the book from her and throw it over the railing. How could they possibly trust anything his father said? He was their enemy. Blood ties could not erase four years of war.

"Please," added Gabriel, his voice surprisingly raw with emotion, "help me save her."

Those were the last words he said. With a very small nod goodbye, Gabriel leaned backwards and fell right off the balcony railing. Adrien ran a few steps forward and peered down, scanning the dark alleyway below for the purple and silver suit. Alas, Gabriel Agreste was either fast, stealthy, or both. There was no hint of Hawk Moth in the quiet Parisian night. He had disappeared.

Adrien followed Marinette back into the living room. As he stepped inside, the first thing he did was close the balcony door and lock it, grunting softly in frustration. Then, he grabbed the heavy curtains that were clustered to one side and yanked them over the balcony's glass door. Now they had some privacy, even if Gabriel Agreste was still lurking there somewhere, camouflaged in the darkness.

Marinette was standing by the couch, holding the book carefully with one hand around the spine and the other under the back cover. In the fluorescent indoor lighting, the book was much more visible. Adrien walked over to her and squinted suspiciously at the book.

It was an old, perhaps ancient, book. It had a thick leather cover that was peeling at the edges from years of wear and tear. Its pages were a heavy material, yellowed from time. However, Adrien's attention was mostly drawn to the golden inscription and illustration on the front cover of the book.

A majestic dragon, painted in cracked gold, wrapped around a set of beautiful Chinese characters.

大龙和他们神奇的珍珠

Adrien recognized the first three characters ( _'great_ ,' ' _dragons_ ,' and ' _and_ ' respectfully) but, despite his years of Mandarin lessons, not any of the other characters.

There was one other curious thing about the cover of the book. While the words and the dragon itself were drawn with thin gold lines, there was one thing that was painted with thick silver lines: a small circle that was a centimeter or so in front of the dragon's open mouth.

"Can you read it?" Marinette asked softly as she brushed her fingers lightly along the spine of the book.

"Kind of," Adrien answered honestly, "I think these ones say,  _The Great Dragons and…_ something." He shrugged. "I don't know the rest."

Marinette continued to stare at the book, seemingly beguiled by it.

Adrien, on the other hand, didn't feel the same way. "We should burn it," he stated grimly.

"Burn it?" replied Marinette in shock, "Are you kidding? This book is ancient. It's history."

"It's the history my father wants us to see," he pointed out, crossing his arms, "how can we trust it? We can't."

"Adrien," Marinette argued, frowning, "there's no way he wrote this book. It's at least worth looking at."

" _Why?_ " Adrien bit out the word harshly, his anger spiking, "What good will it do, Marinette?" That book could not bring his mother back from the dead. It was a waste of their time. There was no need to indulge Gabriel Agreste with their time.

She took a step back, hugging the book against her chest. Spluttering, she replied, "But! It-it might h-help us understand what y-your father wants -"

"What my father wants is impossible." Now he was practically snarling. Negative emotions were pounding through his veins, filling him to the brim. His mother was dead, his father was on some preposterous quest to raise her from the dead, and now his father expected him to  _help_ , like the good little boy he was.

Adrien had no family any more.

His eyes began to burn, as rage brought tears with it.

Marinette pressed the book tighter to her chest. She stood there, watching him nervously. "Adrien... I, I know you're upset -"

"Upset.  _Upset_ ," he echoed sarcastically, his voice cracking, "I think I'm a little more than upset, Marinette! My father is an absolute _loon_." His breath was coming raggedly to him. It was hard to think right. Dropping down onto the couch, Adrien slapped his hands onto his face and tried to calm his breathing.

"Loon's a little strong, I think," she whispered, her voice wavering nervously, "I think love can make anyone act irrationally." There was something about the way she said that, like there was a nugget of irony in it. Risking a glance up at her, Adrien winced when he saw the hurt expression on Marinette's face. She looked like a kicked puppy.

 _I'm an idiot_ , he thought, groaning and planting his face back firmly in his hands. He knew he shouldn't snap at Marinette. This wasn't her fault. He wasn't angry at her. "I'm sorry," he whispered miserably, "I'm so sorry, Marinette."

The couch cushions bounced ever so slightly as Marinette sat down next to him. She sighed softly. "It's okay," she whispered back.

"No, it's not okay," murmured Adrien, as some of his rage turned inwards, "my world is turning to shit and I'm here, yelling at the one good thing in it." Growling, he rubbed viciously at his eyes, erasing the tears that were threatening to spill down over his cheeks.

Marinette didn't reply. When he peaked sideways at her, he found her staring at him with wide eyes, clearly surprised.

A tiny bit of amusement managed to sneak past all the negative feelings and into him. She was too cute. He didn't deserve this wonderful girl sitting next to him - not that he was ever going to give her up, though. "I'm not kidding," he added, unable to help himself, "you're my drug of choice."

"Drugs are bad," Marinette replied automatically. Almost right after the words left her mouth, her face screwed up, as if she couldn't believe she'd just said that.

Adrien burst into laughter.

She turned even redder and pouted her lower lip out. Adrien fought the urge to tackle her down against the couch and claim her lips for himself, like he had been going to prior to his father's interruption.

However, the dark feelings were still there. The raw pain from his father's insanity, his mother's death brought up anew, and a home he could no longer go back too. The last thing he needed was to have a panic attack in the middle of his first real (well, technically second) make-out session with the girl he was madly in love with.

"Maybe we should call it a night," he pointed out gently.

"Okay," she agreed, before adding stubbornly, "we can talk more about the book in the morning."

 _No,_ he wanted to insist. He wanted to tell her,  _no way am I joining my father's book club_. Seriously, if it was only up to him, he really would burn the book. Adrien felt so very done with his father and his crap. But, it wasn't just up to him. Ladybug and Chat Noir were a partnership. He could not act selfishly. If she saw value in analyzing the book, he knew he should respect that.

Not that it was easy. "Maybe," he relented, rubbing the back of his neck, "okay."

Marinette patted his knee before standing up from the couch, still holding the book. Smartly, she took the book with her into her bedroom.

Adrien flopped down onto the couch and forced himself to breath slowly. He tried to think optimistically. Perhaps, somewhere in that book, there might be an explanation for why his father had lost his marbles. Although... to be completely honest, assuming an explanation did exist, Adrien didn't really want to find it. He didn't want to understand his father; he just wanted to hate him. Hate him for being a terrible dad, hate him for making his life growing up difficult, hate him for being an evil villain who attacked Paris.

Adrien knew his desires were immature. It was easy to hate. It was harder to forgive.

It was a good thing he had Marinette with him, to balance out his temper. His temper… that had, unfortunately, turned on her too. Groaning aloud, Adrien hated himself again for yelling at her. Really, he needed to apologize again. He wanted Marinette to know that he truly cared about her.

Slipping off the couch, Adrien tiptoed over to Marinette's door and knocked lightly. If she was asleep already, he'd leave her be and tell her in the morning.

"Uh, yes?" he heard her reply.

"Can I come in for a second?" he asked, leaning his entire body against the door.

"Um… one second," she said. He then heard movement, like bed sheets being moved around. "Okay, you can come in."

When Adrien opened the door, he momentarily lost his breath. Marinette was sitting in bed, her lower half in the sheets. Her upper half was covered by a satin spaghetti string tank top. What impact him the most, however, was her hair. It lung loosely around her shoulders, a few strands even daring to hang in front of her face.

 _Your adorable_ , he thought automatically.

Then he realized he accidentally said it (" _you're adorable_ ") out loud. Marinette turned tomato red and shrunk down into the sheets. "You're crazy," she hissed at him, although her eyes were crunched up with happiness.

He could only shrug and grin. His own cheeks were warm.

"Did you just come in here to tease me?" she asked playfully, still shielding herself with the sheets.

"No," he answered, kicking at the door frame nervously, "I wanted to, well…" He sighed. "I wanted to tell you, thank you. For everything."

She dropped the sheets and sat up, tilting her head. "I haven't really done anything," she told him honestly.

"You have," he disagreed, "you've always been there for me. As Ladybug and as Marinette."

"You've always been there for me too," she pointed out, blinking.

He smiled wholeheartedly, "Still. Marinette… I don't know what I'd do without you." He kicked the door frame a few more times, dropping his gaze down to the floor. Everything he was saying was awkward but also the absolute truth. "You mean a lot to me, bugaboo. I love… ah, having you in my life." He almost said something else, but he changed his mind at the last second.

It was too soon, too intense. His cheeks burned with chagrin.

"Adrien," Marinette whispered as she reached up and tucked her loose hair behind her ears. Suddenly, Adrien had to resist the urge to join her in the bed, to claim that damned kiss. However, that would hardly be romantic. In the shadow of Hawk Moth's visit, while they were both in their PJs... no, it was far from perfect. Marinette deserved something more romantic, something more beautiful.

Grabbing onto the door handle, he told her with a shaky voice, "Good night, Marinette." The door clicked softly as he closed it.

Then, he could have swore - and maybe he heard it wrong - that he heard her sigh and whisper, "I love you too, you silly cat."

-  **x**  -

The next day, the two visited Master Fu during their lunch break. It was a rather uneventful visit.

The peacock kwami, Lee, was still very dizzy and spent most of the time playing around in Adrien's hair. "Pretty," the kwami kept saying. He decided to tolerate it, for the sake of the little spirit, although he really didn't like how she was yanking on her hair.

While Lee played in his hair, Adrien settled next to Adrien at Master Fu's low table. After they were settled down, they told Master Fu about Nino and Alya. He was pleased (and unsurprised) by their selections. "Bring them next time," he told them as he dished out some noodles for them. They agreed, thanked him for the food, and then dug in.

As they ate, Marinette and Adrien kept exchanging glances. Partially because Adrien was terrible at chopsticks and that seemed to highly amuse Marinette, but also partially because they were sharing one big secret.

The book.

It was tucked into Marinette's back, between her geometry workbook and her history textbook. The two had decided not to mention to Master Fu just yet, not until they'd had a chance to decipher it on their own. They did, however, try to bring up the topic of dragons in between slurps of noodles.

"So, Master Fu," Marinette began casually, "I have a sort of random question for you."

"If it's about where I buy my Hawaiian shirts," he replied, smiling, "I'm afraid that's a secret!" They laughed politely at his joke.

"It's not that," said Marinette, stirring her noodles, "but I do like your shirts, they are very nice."

Master Fu beamed.

Clearing her throat, Marinette broached the subject, "It's about dragons. They're very common in Chinese mythology, and I was wondering if there's any truth in the matter? Did they exist?"

 _And if they did, what happened to them? Also, did they all have glowing orbs that hovered in front of their faces? What were those glowing orbs?_  These were some of the burning questions in Adrien's mind. That morning, over breakfast, him and Marinette had flipped through the old book his father given them. Inside that book had been numerous, painstakingly detailed illustrations, most of which were of dragons.

"Dragons?" repeated Master Fu, frowning thoughtfully, "Hm. Unfortunately, nothing I've ever read has ever indicated that they are anything more than fairy tales. Most likely, the concept of dragons were created when early people discovered dinosaur bones."

Adrien sighed with disappointment. So, maybe his father was really just nuts.

Meanwhile, Tikki and Plagg floated at the edge of the table, listening to the whole conversation. There was something off about the kwamis today. When Marinette and Adrien had been flipping through the book that morning, the two kwamis had been whispering nervously to each other. Now, they looked just as nervous again.

"Besides," added Master Fu, "I'm pretty sure none of our immortal kwamis has ever seen a dragon. Isn't that right?" He looked pointedly at Tikki and Plagg.

The weirdest thing happened. Tikki zoomed behind Plagg with a tiny _eep_ , as if the attention was too much. Plagg looked uncomfortable too as he rubbed the back of his oversized head with a paw. "Um, yea. Never seen a dragon before."

Adrien blinked at the kwami's odd behavior. He was starting to suspect that there was something going on between Plagg and Tikki.  _Can kwamis be in love?_  He found himself wondering as he slurped up some noodles.

Master Fu gave the kwamis a kind smile before quickly changing the topic. Adrien and Marinette were left nodding out of obligation rather than interest as Master Fu spoke about different kinds of herbal tea.

As Master Fu dominated the conversation, Adrien retreated into his own mind, thinking of dragons and moths.

-  **x**  -

"Dude, I thought you've been learning Chinese for years."

Adrien's ears turned red in embarrassment. "I've been learning Mandarin, yes," he replied hotly to Nino, "but I don't know all of these characters." Adrien was regretting not trying harder to learn Mandarin. Honestly, before, the Mandarin lessons had always been just another mandated appointment in his overfilled calendar. Now, they were suddenly vital... but, well, it was too late.

The four teenagers were sitting around a table at the back of the Dupain-Cheng bakery. The infamous book laid open on their table, it's puzzling script mocking them.

"These illustrations are pretty amazing," commented Alya as she flipped through the pages of the book.

Before anyone could reply, another voice interrupted. "Pastries, anyone?" Sabine Dupain-Cheng asked as she ducked under the makeshift ribbon barrier. Behind her, fascinated patrons peered at Adrien and his friends.

It had been a couple of weeks since Marinette's identity had been revealed. While some of the fervor had died down, there were still a few die hard fans who came to the Dupain-Cheng bakery every day in hopes of catching a glimpse of the famed Ladybug.  _At least it's good for business_ , Sabine had whispered to them as she helped them drag a table to the back of the bakery. For a little added privacy, they'd hung a thick red ribbon (from Marinette's sewing supplies) to separate it from the rest of the bakery. Nino had jokingly dubbed it _the VIP section_.

"Yes please," Nino said with a grin, "you know I can't resist your macaroons, Mrs. Dupain-Cheng."

"Neither can I," added Alya, peering lustfully at the tray Sabine was carrying. There were macaroons as well as croissants, cream-filled pastries, and donut holes.

Nino and Alya were quick to pluck off their treats. However, Adrien noticed that Marinette didn't; she was distracted by the people in the rest of the bakery. Several of them had their phones out and were snapping pictures of the teens.

"Ignore them," he whispered into Marinette's ear, before grabbing one croissant for him and one for her. She accepted hers with a blush and a muttered  _thank you_.

"So, what's this?" Sabine asked, her eyes on the red book, "Homework?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Sort of."

They all spoke at once, their voices merging into one guilty mess.

Sabine blinked. "Alright then," she said. Luckily, she didn't sound too concerned about their contrasting answers.

"Actually, mom," Marinette said, pulling the book over to herself and flipping it a different page, "can you read this? We're trying to figure out what this page says." She gently pushed the book across the table, closer to her mother.

The page Marinette had picked looked similar to the other pages. Like the other pages, it bore a fancy illustration of a dragon chasing a glass sphere. However, unlike the other pages, this one had been bookmarked with a thin peacock feather.

 _Subtle_ , Adrien had thought dryly when they'd stumbled across the feather.

Sabine hovered over the page, frowning. Her fingers reached forward and lightly stroked the yellowed, thick paper. "It says,  _Amaterasu_. That's the name of this dragon." Smiling a little, she murmured, "how fascinating. Amaterasu is the goddess of the Spirit world in Japanese mythology."

"Japanese?" repeated Nino, "But, this book is written in Chinese."

"Yes, but it also borrows a lot of Japanese words. For example, this one," she poked at a strange character that Adrien couldn't remember having seen before, "it is the Japanese symbol for kami - the spirits."

 _Kami._  The word echoed in Adrien's mind.

He wasn't the only one who immediately leaned in towards the book, staring curiously at the dragon depicted on the page. All of the teenagers moved at the same time, each inching closer to the book. Their curious eyes drank in the illustration of the dragon: it was painted with rich oranges and yellows, and then further decorated with a few touches of brilliant white.

Curiously, while the rest of the book had faded, the colors of this dragon had not.

"What does it about spirits?" Marinette asked almost breathlessly.

Sabine gave her daughter an odd look before refocusing back on the book. "Well, not too much else. Most of this is more poetic than substantial. Let's see… hm... this talks about her great power... this about how her orange scales glowed in the moonlight... and this is says all were amazed by her." She listed each of these items one by one, her finger trailing along the faded black wording as she translated.

Adrien couldn't help but feel disappointed. "That's it?"

Sabine squinted at the page, her eyes darting around to some of the other scattered notes. "Well, there's this right here." She pointed to a note, written in red ink, to the side of the dragon. "This one says, her pearl broke in two."

"Pearl?" Alya asked.

"Oh, yes, these.  _Huoh chuh_." Sabine pointed at the glass sphere that was drawn right in front of the dragon's mouth. "Sometimes these are called fire pearls. In some myths, they are said to contain the power and soul of the dragon."

"That's pretty cool," commented Nino, his eyebrows raising.

Chuckling, Sabine agreed, "Yes, it is. Dragon mythology is fascinating. Although, this is the first time I've seen dragons named after Japanese deities. You have definitely found yourselves an interesting book!"

The four teens laughed nervously.  _Found_ wasn't quite the right word to use.

After they'd all thanked Sabine for her help, she turned and ducked out of the VIP section. The macaroons weren't going to bake themselves, after all.

They spent a little more time pouring over the book. Nino and Alya both picked favorite dragons and started arguing over which was best. Adrien, however, just wanted to look at the Amaterasu page more. It was the page his father bookmarked. There had to be a good reason for it.

That reason was, unfortunately, far from obvious.

The only thing the four of them accomplished over few hours was getting some crumps wedged between the pages of the who-knows-how-old book. Nino tried to brush the crumbs out with a napkin, but ended up brushing off some of the paint from a ferocious green dragon. That's when they decided to call it a night.

While Alya and Nino shouldered their backpacks, Marinette said, "I'd like to get some things from my room, to bring to my apartment."

"Okay, well, we'll see you guys at school tomorrow," replied Alya, before not so subtly winking at Marinette, "good luck getting what you need."

Adrien watched Marinette color. It was pretty damned cute how easily she blushed.

However, it was worth noting that there were multiple romances a foot. Adrien watched as Alya and Nino walked out of the bakery, side by side. Then, right before they reached the door, he saw Nino take Alya's hand. Adrien chuckled.

"Thanks so much, mom," Adrien heard Marinette say from the other side of the store. He hadn't even realized she'd wandered away from him. She was now over by the counter, handing the decimated tray of pastries back to her mother. "Do you want us to help you clean today?"

"Oh, no, not today," her mother said with a wave of a hand, "it's a school night. You should be getting to bed sooner than later."

Marinette smiled and nodded, "Okay, if you're sure. But first, I'm going to go upstairs and get a few things… if that's okay?" She added the last bit nervously, as if she wasn't sure if her mother was going to agree. Adrien wasn't concerned. While Sabine had taken the whole moving out thing rather harshly at first, she'd warmed up immensely to everything.

"Sure, that's fine," replied Sabine as she carried the dishes to the sink, "is Adrien going to help you carry your things?" There was something playful in Sabine's tone that made Adrien flush. It was one thing to hear the teasing inflection in Alya's voice; to hear Marinette's mother have it… eep.

"Um, well, yes."

"Oh, well, isn't that nice." Sabine glanced over her shoulder and smiled sweetly at Adrien. "He's a sweet boy, isn't he?" Adrien could only smile bashfully.

"Ah, yes, um, he is, well, ah, anyways we, um, we should go, yea, go get the stuff now, okay, bye." Marinette's words were a garbled, rushed mess. Before her mother could say anything more, Marinette hightailed it back to the VIP area, grabbed Adrien's arm, and started to haul him towards the stairs. He barely managed not to trip over his own feet as she lugged him up the stairs and into her childhood room.

As soon as they got into the room, Marinette let out a big sigh.

Adrien couldn't help but laugh. "I like your mother a lot," he told her pleasantly as he rubbed his still warm cheeks.

Marinette giggled. With a small, crooked smile, she said jokingly, "Well, I'm sorry to tell you, but she's taken."

Adrien laughed hard. "Really? Well, I guess I'll just have to find myself someone who's similar." Marinette's mouth opened and closed a few times, as if she was trying to find a creative or sassy way to reply to that.

Eventually, she huffed, "oh shush." Her cheeks were a lovely shade of pink. That pink that was quickly becoming one of Adrien's favorite colors.

Then, Marinette refocused and began to fret about her room, gathering up items. Much to Adrien's amusement, he noticed that most of what Marinette was grabbing was sewing supplies. He tried to protest when she handed him a huge bolt of green fabric, but she told him sternly, "I  _need_  it."

He gave up and let her gather her supplies in peace. Carrying the obnoxiously large bolt of fabric, he wandered around her room and peeked at her stuff. Most of it was the traditional girly stuff with a dash of Paris class. Flowers, pink, hearts, and pastel accents everywhere. Then, as he was passing by her computer desk, something caught his eye.

Himself.

There was a picture - no, wait, several pictures - of him, hung up on the wall next to the computer. Jaw falling open, Adrien leaned in closer to inspect the pictures. Most of them were from various magazine shoots. One, however, was totally taken by a cell phone and printed out. It shouted him looking casual and smiling. He didn't remember the that particular photo at all.

The dumbest grin broke out on his face. If he'd been told a month ago that Ladybug had pictures of him tacked up in her room, he wouldn't have believed it. It was kind of funny how the two had been gravitating around each other for so long.

"Adrien, can you help me find my pincushion? It's shaped like a toma-  _oh my god!_ "

Suddenly, Adrien found himself being tugged away from the glorious wall. Marinette was babbling in horror, saying, "I-I-I don't know where those, ah, came from! A-a-alya put them up! It's, um, a prank, yes, a prank! I, ah, didn't even know, uh, you were um, a model…" It was like she was choking on her own words. The girl made a horrified, gurgling noise as she continued to drag Adrien (who was now howling with laughter) to the other side of the room.

He ended up losing his footing and tumbling down to the ground. However, he grabbed her on his way down, yanking her to the floor with him. She landed on top of him with a squeak.

He was still laughing. He couldn't help himself. "Stop it!" she cried, her face bright red.

Shaking his head, he did his best to express that this was well beyond his control. That picture wall was the funniest shit he'd seen in a long time.

Marinette didn't seemed pleased with this. She slapped her hands over his mouth, growling.

So, he grabbed her arms, holding them in place just long enough for him to give her hands a sloppy lick. "Adrien!" she squawked, rolling off him. "What are you, an animal!?"

"Yea, actually!" he managed to cough out in between his rambunctious laughter, "I show affection with licks!"

"Adrien, don't you dare -" But he was already up on all fours and crawling towards her, his tongue lolling out threateningly. "No, bad cat!"

Before she could stand back up, he grabbed her leg and pulled her back to him. "Come here, princess," he purred as he pinned her down, his body over hers.

"Don't you dare!" she barked at him, her face contorted with an odd mix of annoyance, embarrassment, and amusement.

He dared.

Marinette screeched, "Adrien!" as he licked his tongue up the length of her cheek, "Stop it, you're not really a cat!"

"Oh? I'm not?" he replied, grinning. "Oh… that's right, I'm a human." Frowning thoughtfully, he pretended to study Marinette's face. "That's right, humans don't lick. They… what's the word I'm looking for?"

Marinette got very quiet. He watched as her eyes darted down to his lips, then back up to meet his own eyes.

That's when he forgot his humor. Heated blossomed within his chest and his heart sped up. They were so close, their bodies centimeters away. Without thinking about it, he licked his lips. There, surrounded by sewing supplies that they'd both dropped, he could finally claim a kiss.

But first, he savored the moment. There was something glorious about being so close and feeling the passion that seemed to fill every last bit of his body. Adrien was in no rush. Or at least, he wasn't, until Marinette let out a little noise, like a pleading whimper. That little noise sent pleasant shivers up his spine.

She was looking at him intensely. So intensely, that he forgot how to breath.

"Hey, are you kids alright?" Tom, Marinette's father, called out suddenly, his voice muffled by the closed trap door. There was a heavy knocking on the door. "I thought I heard a scream."

"Oh!" Marinette was quick to respond, "Ah, we're fine! I just, um, ri-ripped some fabric by accident!"

"Oh, well, would you like some help?" Tom asked. At the same time that he spoke, the trap door began to open. Marinette and Adrien were quick to spring apart and stand up. Luckily, Tom hardly seemed to notice their rosey faces or wide pupils. He strode into the room, asking, "what can I do?"

While Marinette tasked her father with finding the tomato pincushion, Adrien took a moment to breath. Once Tom had traveled to the other side of the room (looking for the pincushion), Adrien stepped closer to Marinette. He whispered huskily into her ear, "Next time."

She turned into a spluttering mess again.

-  **x**  -

Right before they'd left her bedroom, Marinette had tried to sneakily tear down the photograph wall. Only, Adrien saw her do it; he made a point of winking at her once she'd turned around, after the deed was done.

It took a few hours for Marinette's face to return back to its standard pale color.

Although, that was partially due to Adrien's behavior over the next few hours.

On the walk home, Marinette kept jumping every time Adrien brushed into her. So naturally, he went out of his way to bump into her as much as possible.

Once they got home, Adrien immediately went into the bedroom. While Marinette busied herself with avoiding him, he printed a bunch of Ladybug pictures off Alya's blog. Then, he scotch taped the pictures up, all around the computer.

He took a step back and admired his work.  _Perfect_ , he thought proudly.

"Hey Marinette, I'm going to take a shower," he yelled.

"Oh, okay, sure," yelled back Marinette from the kitchen.

He was barely halfway through with this nice, relaxing, hot shower when he heard her scream, "Adrien, this isn't funny!"

Only, it was funny. Really, really funny.

- **x**  -

Perhaps his playfulness was infectious. The next day, during school, Marinette was downright flirtatious. Adrien could barely believe it.

It started in their very first class. Their teacher was lecturing about some classic French book. Adrien was half listening and half staring into space. There was nothing wrong with the lecture itself, other than the fact that it was utterly boring. Oh well. At least it was better than obsessing over his father's insanity.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when something wet pressed into his arm. Hissing, "jeez," under his breath, he turned to look curiously at Marinette. She smiled at him apologetically before going back to what she'd been doing. Which just so happened to be, drawing on his arm.

Adrien gaped. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, her eyes narrow with delight, was drawing cats on his bicep with a felt-tip marker. She was using one of her good markers, the kind she used for drawing fashion images. He'd seen her doodling dresses and skirts and shirts before with them. Now, instead of fashion, those markers were producing smiling cartoon cats.

Grinning, Adrien whispered suggestively to Marinette, "me- _ow_."

She flushed but kept drawing. He did notice that she pointedly ignored making eye contact with him.

It was surprising hard to focus on what his teacher was saying. That difficulty only increased when she reached forward and lightly grasped his forearm, holding him steady so she could add careful details to the cats.

Adrien watched her out of the corner of his eye. With the way she was concentrating, her tongue half stuck out, he had to fight the urge to scoop her up, throw her onto the table, and mash his mouth into hers.

He didn't, though. He was pretty sure his French teacher wouldn't be appreciate of it.  _But teacher, she looked too cute_ , probably wouldn't be a good enough excuse.

-  **x**  -

At lunch, Adrien and his friends found a shady spot under some trees in the school's courtyard and made themselves comfortable. It was kind of like everything was normal again. Marinette passed out sandwiches that she'd made that morning while Nino shared some energy drinks he'd bought. To any outsider, they looked like four normal teenagers.

But, they were much more than four normal teenagers. Each of them had a powerful miraculous and, in Marinette's bag, there was an ancient text on dragons.

"Aw man, Mari, is there mustard on here?" asked Alya, frowning.

"Yea… I thought you liked mustard?" replied Marinette.

Alya shook her head. "It's okay though." Putting the sandwich down, Alya leaned over and embraced Marinette, squeezing her shoulders. "I still love you, even though you're subjecting me to mustard."

"I got you, babe," Nino said with a grin. He reached over and picked up Alya's sandwich, popped it open, and licked off the mustard.

Alya snorted with laughter, "Nino, you're my hero."

He winked at her and the rest of the group laughed.

They all dug into their sandwiches, including Alya. Their talk stayed casual, focusing on what their morning lessons had been about. Adrien found himself forgetting entirely about the serious side of their life. The ring on his finger, the book in Marinette's back, and the black cat spirit sleeping in his shirt's pocket… it all might as well have disappeared.

While they ate, Marinette kept shooting little looks to Adrien. It was as if she was daring herself to look at him. He responded by trying to meet her gaze every time. Satisfyingly, her face scrunched up shyly every time he succeeded. And yet, she kept doing it. At one point, she even stuck her tongue out at him.

Adrien was once again tempted to tackle Marinette and claim her mouth with his. If his mouth hadn't been full of sandwich, he might have.

All in all, lunch was very pleasant. Adrien - for a brief time - was a typical teenage boy, concerned only with the food in his hands and the cute girl sitting next to him.

It wasn't until they were cleaning up their food, shoving empty energy drink cans and other scraps into a plastic bag, that Alya broke the illusion. "Can I see the book, by the way?"

Without asking why, Marinette nodded and pulled the book from her bag, handing it to Alya. Adrien figured Marinette thought much like he did; the book was a curious thing. It was no surprise that Alya wanted to flip through it.

Alya opened up the book and began to leaf through it. Meanwhile, Nino started talking about some DJ that was coming to town. "If Hawk Moth doesn't kill us beforehand, do you guys want to go?" he asked the group.

"Hell yeah," replied Adrien. Marinette replied similarly. Excitedly, Nino started to tell them about this particular DJ and why he liked him. Adrien listened politely, nodding along as he enjoyed his friend's enthusiastic. Nino had always been very passionate towards music.

"Hey guys," Alya spoke up, interrupting Nino right as he was telling them about the DJ's signature mouse helmet, "what's this page about?"

They all turned to look at the book. Alya had it opened to a page near the back. Admittedly, they hadn't spent much of their time on those pages. Those pages contained a lot of seemingly random illustrations as well as walls of text, most of which Adrien couldn't even begin to decipher. The words he could read were not useful to understanding the greater meaning for pretty much any page in the back.

The pages with illustrations of dragons were easily more interesting. That being said, Alya had managed to find a pretty fascinating page. It depicted a glassy silver orb, cracked roughly down the middle into two pieces.

Sabine Dupain-Cheng's voice echoed in Adrien's mind.  _Her pearl broke in two_.

Adrien was once again drawn closer to the book, his brow furrowing in thought. This particular page was jam packed with Chinese writing. He saw characters for  _strength, weaknesses, two, death, life_ , and then the character he'd, yesterday, learned meant  _Amaterasu_. It took all of his good sense to not rip the book away from Alya so that he could better see it.

"Could that be the pearl that my mom mentioned?" speculated Marinette. She was also arched forwards the book, her arms supporting her weight as she peered down.

In hindsight, they probably shouldn't have had the ancient book resting on the grass and dirt, but oh well. All four teenagers crowded around it, studying the detailed illustration of the split pearl.

"I think so," Adrien said, "it says Amaterasu here… and here… and here…" His finger trailed around the page, hesitating on each instance of the word.

"What else does it say?" Nino asked.

"I… don't know," admitted Adrien, frustration bubbling up within him, "hell, I really wish I'd tried harder to learn Mandarin." Rubbing his face, he groaned. "I never thought I'd be using it for anything like this." Adrien had always assumed he'd only be using his Mandarin to communicate with the factories in China. After all, that was why his father had had him learn Mandarin… well, allegedly, at least.

"It's okay," Marinette told him, as she reached over and rubbed his back, "Adrien, I'm half Chinese and I can't help at all. You are more than okay."

"Yeah dude, don't worry about it," Nino agreed, nodding sagely, "besides, there's always google translate!"

"We'll figure it out one way or another," added Marinette positively.

Adrien's mind was torn between thinking about  _google translate_  and being highly distracted by how Marinette was rubbing his back.

-  **x** -

The rest of the day passed slowly. Adrien's mind kept going back to the book. Every time his teachers would prattle on and on, their voice would fade away and Adrien would be consumed in his own thoughts. Nino's suggestion, perhaps made jokingly, was actually a good one. Google translate did have a handwrite option for simple Chinese characters. Adrien could attempt to use that feature to make some more sense out of the book.

In the middle of their math class, while their teacher showed them how to solve derivatives, a foot kicked his.

"Sorry," Marinette murmured honestly, as she pushed herself up a little in her chair.

Glancing over at the girl, Adrien raised a brow curiously. However, she hardly noticed. She was focusing on what the teacher was saying, her hand flicking deftly as she wrote down the numbers and method. Meanwhile, his notebook was completely barren. He'd been too busy daydreaming pointlessly about what the book may or may not say.

That tiny kick was enough to bring him out of his own mind. Grinning a little, Adrien slouched down in his chair and gave Marinette's foot a kick in return.

"Hey," she huffed softly, glaring at him for a second before going back to diligently taking notes.

So, he kicked her foot again.

She kicked back, scowling.

His grin grew as he kicked again.

Soon enough, Marinette forgot about her notes and the two of them got into a full out footsie war. Marinette kept trying to pin his feet down, while he started trying to knocked off her shoes. It was delightfully childish fun.

Unfortunately, Adrien succeeded in shoving one of her shoes off her foot. This ended up being an unfortunate thing because the shoe clattered noisily away and over the ledge. It landed a foot away from Alya's chair.

The teacher paused in the middle of her equation, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Sorry," squeaked Marinette.

Alya, her cheeks puffed up as she very obviously tried to hold in giggles, reached down and picked up the shoe. She handed it back to Marinette, winking as she did so.

Marinette was bright red and, as soon as her shoe was back on and the teacher had went back to lecturing, buried her face in her notebook. "Adrien, are you trying to embarrass me?" she whispered to him.

"Kind of," he whispered back cheerfully, a stupidly large grin adorning his face.

A shy smile snuck onto her face. She turned her face away, trying to hide it, but Adrien had already saw it.

-  **x**  -

After school, while Marinette put the finishing touches on the Ladybug hoodie, Adrien settled down in front of the Mac computer and got to work. Armed with pen, paper, and google translate, he started trying to decipher the page about the split pearl.

It wasn't a fast process.

First of all, he couldn't find a lot of the symbols. Whether that was because he was drawing them terribly or they just didn't exist in the google translate database, he wasn't sure. No matter what, it meant he wasted a lot of time drawing the same symbol over and over again.

Secondly, even for the characters that he did manage to find, they too usually took several attempts. It was too easy to junk up drawing the images when drawing them with a mouse.

Thirdly, he got multiple results for some of the characters. It was hard to say, for few of them, which character the book actually bore. In some places, the calligraphy text had blurred, making Adrien's job harder.

"I'm going to order a pizza," Marinette said at one point. He'd only nodded, intent on solving the book's mysteries.

In the time it took Marinette to order the pizza and for the pizza to be delivered, Adrien managed a handful new words added to his partial translation.

Marinette brought him two slices of pizza on a plate, looking concerned. "Do you want to take a break?" she asked him, eyeing his paper with the quickly jotted translations.

"Not yet, give me a bit longer," he told her, "thank you for bringing me pizza." Then, his eyes sparkled deviously. "I'm glad you ordered dessert too."

"Dessert?" she repeated, confused, "I didn't. I only ordered pizza."

"Funny, I see a rather sweet thing right  _here_." On here, he reached forward and poked her arm.

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air and blushing for the billionth time that day. Marinette told him, "I'm going to go study for history. Come find me when you're done."

"Okay princess," he purred. He watched her walk out of the bedroom, noticing how there was a little swing to her hips as she walked. It looked like his cheesy comment had worked well.  _Great success_ , he congratulated himself jovially, before turning back to his work.

The book wasn't going to translate itself, after all.

If only it could of.

Three hours later, Adrien was arched over the desk, his eyes sore from staring at the computer screen. He had a moderate headache. But, there was some good. Several important words had emerged from his translating.

Luck. Life. Death. Misfortune. From what Adrien could gather, one half of the pearl represented the first two - luck and life - while the other half of the pearl represented the later two - death and misfortune.

That sure sounded familiar.

Once Adrien had deduced that meaning, he'd swiveled around in the chair, eyes scanning the room for Plagg. The kwami had been in and out of the room all evening, spending half his time watching Adrien and the other half his time with Tikki.

The two kwamis had been spending a lot of time together recently. Adrien hadn't really thought much of it. After all, he had a sneaking suspicion that there was something romantic between them. He could have swore there was something in the way that Plagg looked at Tikki… and well, even if he was wrong, they were both kwamis. Dating or not, they were sure to have a lot in common.

Although, in general, the two kwamis had been behaving oddly. For example, both kwamis had been relatively unhelpful when it came to the book. In fact, Plagg had been downright dismissive of it.  _It's probably nothing_ , the kwami kept saying about the book, _I'm still for burning it._

Adrien spotted Plagg, his two green eyes glowing in the darkness of the room, resting on the bed frame of Marinette's bed. It was just him - there was no red kwami with him. Adrien was unsure how long his kwami had been there for, perched on the bed frame.

"Plagg," Adrien said. Plagg blinked in acknowledgement and hovered an inch upward. Tapping the book, Adrien continued, "I think this Amaterasu pearl has something to do with the Black Cat and Ladybug miraculous."

Instead of replying, Plagg silently flew over to Adrien's shoulder. The kwame's green eyes flitted from the ancient book to the white printer paper where Adrien had sloppily written the translations. There was something odd about his expression. It was like a mixture of worry and annoyance.

"Did you… already know that?" guessed Adrien, frowning.

"Kid," Plagg said somberly, "you're digging into things you shouldn't be digging into."

" _What?_ " Adrien said incredulously. Was Plagg serious?

Rubbing his face, Plagg sighed, "Look… I don't want to come off as harsh. I just… I'm worried. I'm worried about what your father wants. I'm worried about where it'll lead. Most of this information is better forgotten." With that mysterious comment, the black cat kwami turned and floated away.

-  **x**  -

It was only nine o'clock when Adrien finally closed the google translate window. He'd done all that he could, attempted almost every character on the stupid page. In the end, he only had a vague idea that somehow, possibly, his and Marinette's miraculouses had been created from the same dragon's  _fire pearl_.

And yet, that made everything more confusing, not less. What did that have to do with his mother, with anything?

Oh, and there was one other thing. There was one term that kept appearing, over and over, on the page.

_Soul._

It appeared in at least seven places in the text surrounding the cracked pearl illustration. Additionally, there were a few other characters that looked similar, but, thanks to faded ink, it was hard to be certain.

In fact, a quick glance through the book revealed that that character also appeared on many of the other pages.

It was overwhelming. Adrien forced it all out of his mind as he dragged himself away from the computer. There would be plenty of time tomorrow to figure it all out. Rubbing his aching head, he walked out of the bedroom.

The lights in the living room were off, but the TV was on. Marinette was curled up on the couch, a blanket hiding most of her. Quietly, Adrien tiptoed closer to her.

She was asleep. A wave of guilt crashed down on him. He had essentially ignored her all evening. Rubbing his neck, he looked over at the TV. A movie was playing, one that he faintly recognized. He'd been subjected to it once by Chloé, back when they were both young; if he remembered correctly, it was called The Notebook..

Without thinking much more about it, Adrien grabbed the remote and clicked off the TV. Then, he stepped over to the couch, leaned down, and scooped up Marinette.

"Mm, I can walk," she muttered against his chest, wiggling a little in protest. He'd woken up her.

"It's okay princess," he told her as he carried her away from the couch, "sorry for not joining you earlier."

"Yea, you should be," Marinette told him, yawning, "you missed out."

"Oh?" he hummed in response as he pushed the bedroom door open with his foot.

She whispered slyly, "Yes. We could have made out after the movie." There was a lot of drowsiness in her voice. It was clear that Marinette wasn't all the way awake. Adrien was pretty sure she wouldn't be speaking so boldly if she was fully awake.

That being said, he was highly amused by her sleepy commentary. "Who says I can't have a kiss anyways?" he whispered back to her as he approached her bed.

"You don't deserve one," she sang softly, snuggling closer to him.

Laughing, Adrien eased her down onto the bed. "Are you sure?" He hesitated, bent over the bed; his face was only a couple of centimeters from hers. Her blue eyes locked onto his.

"Um…" she murmured, dazed, "okay, maybe you can have one…" Marinette licked her lips, one of her hands reaching up and softly touching his jaw. An involuntarily purr rumbled through Adrien's body.

But, she was only half awake. Adrien resisted his teenager urges and, instead of kissing the silly girl, told her teasingly, "oh, but you said I don't  _deserve_ one."

"I take that back," she whimpered fervidly.

"Sorry princess," he moved forward, pressing his lips into her forehead, "get some sleep. I'll make it up to you soon, I promise."

He pulled the sheets over her and left her to fall asleep. Out in the living room, he collapsed onto the couch and found himself thinking about luck, life, destruction, death, and souls. There was much too much rolling around in his mind.

Adrien couldn't shake the feeling that they were missing something, something big.

It took him several agonizing hours to fall asleep.

-  **x**  -

Thursday, after school, Adrien, Marinette, Nino, and Alya all visited Master Fu.

It was the first time that Nino and Alya were meeting Master Fu. They were nervous, despite both Adrien and Marinette reassuring them that Master Fu was a very laid back, friendly person.  _He'll love you_ , Marinette kept telling them as they walked across Paris together.

The four of teengars were quite the sight. Two of them - Alya and Nino - were dressed normally, in jeans and shirts. Marinette and Adrien, on the other hand, were wearing hoodies (even though the weather was quite pleasant).

Marinette was wearing her Chat Noir hoodie with the hood pulled up. She was also wearing a pair of big black sunglasses. She looked like a celebrity trying to dodge the paparazzi… which, well, she was. That was the point of the hoodie and the sunglasses.

Adrien was not wearing an oversized pair of sunglasses like Marinette, but he was wearing a hoodie. His hoodie, however, was maroon red with black spots. He also wasn't wearing the hood up, since he didn't have to hide himself from the public in the same way that Marinette did.

 _You two are dorks_ , is what Alya had told them when she'd saw their hero themed hoodies.  _Couple goals_ , is what Nino had said. Adrien had beamed at both of them in response and said,  _thanks_.

They managed to make it across town in good time, without running into any obsessed Ladybug fans or any other troubles.

Master Fu was expecting them. He was quick to open the door when they knocked and smiled widely when he noticed Nino and Alya. "Ah, come in, come in," he insisted, waving them in.

Luckily, Marinette ending up being right. Master Fu loved Nino and Alya. The more he talked to them, the more animated he became. "You have chosen well," he told Marinette and Adrien. Nino and Alya both blushed and chuckled nervously.

While the humans were talking and getting to know each other, the kwamis were practically having a party. There were five of them, all flitting back and forth across the room. Tikki, Plagg, Trixx, Wayzz, and - of course - Lee. Lee looked like she'd recovered from whatever had happened. Her eyes were more focused and her flight was relatively straight. She was able to keep up with the other kwamis' movements, although she wasn't as talkative as the others.

Adrien found himself occasionally distracted by all the kwami activity. He'd never seen so many kwamis in one place.

"So how did you all meet?" asked Master Fu.

"School," they replied.

Most of the conversation was mundane like this. It was an easy conversation to zone out of. This was only more so true when Lee decided to play in Adrien's hair. Lee rolled around on top of his head, pulling at his blonde hair. Adrien resisted the urge to swat her away. This kwami was still recovering from whatever his father had done to her. She deserved patience.

Patience was kind of hard, though, with the kwami tugging sharply on his hair. Wincing occasionally, Adrien did his best to listen as Nino told Master Fu about his DJing.

"Ah, so you mix together the music in order to make it even more pleasing?" asked Master Fu.

"Yea, exactly!" Nino said.

"I've used his music on my Ladyblog before!" added Alya.

"Blog? Oh, you must run that Ladybug website that I've heard of before." replied Master Fu.

"Yep, that's me!" Alya declared proudly, before launching into an explanation of her blog.

It was while Alya was in the middle of describing how she started her blog that Lee relinquished Adrien's hair. He breathed a sigh of relief as the weight of the kwami disappeared from his head. That relief ended up being quite temporarily; Lee suddenly dropped down in front of his face, hovering a mere few inches from his face.

He couldn't help but jolt back in surprise. Lee didn't seem to notice. She was smiling happily, her pink eyes staring unblinkingly at him. "I know you," she told him cheerfully.

"Sure," Adrien replied hesitantly, "I was here last time." He didn't the way that Lee was staring at him. It was unnerving.

"You're Adrien," Lee chirped in a sing-song voice.

"... um, yes," he replied.

Alya had stopped speaking. The rest of the table was now watching him and Lee curiously. Adrien glanced over at Marinette, silently begging for some help. Marinette gave him a little smile and shrugged.

"Adrien, Adrien, Adrien," Lee spun in a circle, "such a nice name, such a good boy."

Okay, that was inarguably weird. Shifting backwards, Adrien put a bit of space between himself and Lee.

Master Fu cleared his throat. Suddenly, all the other kwamis rushed forward, all talking over each other. "Why don't we give the humans some space," they said, "let's go to the kitchen."

Only, Lee resisted them. She flew upwards, her pink eyes still locked onto Adrien.

A shiver ran up is spine. Her expression had changed, morphing from playful to ponderous. "I know him," she repeated, stronger this time, "I know him…"

"I think you're just confused." Tikki argued as she floated up next to Lee.

"I'm not confused," she insisted manically, "I know him, I know him, I know him!"

"Is she okay?" Nino asked Master Fu.

Master Fu sighed, his eyes watching the kwamis sadly. "I think it is as I feared," the Master said mysteriously.

Lee's panicking was only getting worse. Her feather's were all fluffed out and she was waving her tiny wings wildly as she continued to say, _I know him_. The other kwamis swarmed around her again.

"Calm down -" Trixx started to say.

"Deep breath -" Tikki started to say.

"Slow down -" Wayzz started to say.

"For fuck's sake -" Plagg started to say.

Before any of the kwamis could finish what they were saying, Lee plummeted out of the air. The peacock kwami plopped hard onto the table, gasping loudly. The bowls and chopsticks on the table clattered as the impact bounced them up half a centimeter. Then, Lee clapped her tiny blue wings together, delight exploding onto her face.

"I remember," she declared, "I remember now. He's my son!" The whole room went silent. The only sound was from Lee as she sang happily, "My son, my son, Adrien, Adrien, Adrien!"

Adrien was completely and utterly confused. What did the kwami mean by that?  _He's my son._  There was no way. The kwami had clearly lost its mind. Somehow, Hawk Moth had broken her, driven her mad. After all, Master Fu had told them, many years ago, that kwamis were ancient, immortal creatures. They were not, and had never been, people.

… right?

And yet, Adrien's stomach began to do flips and his chest filled with panic.

Tikki had flown over to Plagg. The black cat kwami wrapped his arms around the red kwami, comfortingly. Adrien looked up at his kwami and locked eyes with him. The sorrowful expression on the cat kwami's face was downright human-like.

Then, as if he could read Adrien's mind, Plagg nodded.

Adrien started to tremble.

Marinette spoke first, her voice trembling like his body was, "You must be mistaken. Adrien's mother died... a long time ago."

Nino added, "Besides, her name wasn't Lee, it was Emi… oh."

 _Emilie_.

Adrien looked over at Master Fu. The master of the miraculouses was staring down at his tea, a somber expression on his face.  _It is as I feared_ , he'd said a moment ago. The words echoed in Adrien's brain.

Suddenly, it was hard to breath. Suddenly, tears were threatening to blur his vision. Adrien didn't understand. He didn't understand at all. But, he wasn't stupid. The truth was right in front of him, adorned with bright blue feathers. The truth, the one that had driven his father to a life of crime.

"Mom?" whispered Adrien hoarsely.

The little kwami beamed happily.

\- **x** \- **x** \- **x** -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my.  
> Well ain't this a pickle.  
> What the Amatersu is going on?
> 
> #hawkmothsreadingclub  
> #dadblockedagain


End file.
